^.6 




'*So they drank to his health, and they gave him three cheers. 
While he served out additional rations" 







M THE HUNTING 12"' 
OF THE SNARK 




AND OTHER POEMS AND 
VERSES 

by 
LEWIS CARROLL 



ILLUSTRATED 
Br 

PETER NEWELL 




NEW YORK AND LONDON 

HARPER &• BROTHERS PUBLISHERS 

MCMIII 




— ♦'X^T 




THE L.iBRARY OF 
CONGKtSS, 

T«o Copies Recfeivec 

OCT 16 190?^ 

H' ooydgtll ki.Uy 
iS n- XXc. No 

i> 5 / t «t 
COPY J. 



\c\ oZ 



Copyright, 1903, by Harper & Brothers. 



j4U rights reserved. 
Published October, 1903. 



'"^^ 



'-""^^^ 




MiM^A 




CONTENTS 



POEMS FROM "RHYME AND REASON^ 



DEDICATORY POEM 

THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK AN 

AGONY IN EIGHT FITS 
PHANTASMAGORIA . 
THE THREE VOICES 
THE LANG COORTIN' 
ECHOES .... 

a sea dirge . . 
ye carpette knyghte 
Hiawatha's photographing 
melancholetta . . . 
tema con variazioni . 
a game of fives . , . 
poeta fit, non nascitur 
size and tears . . , 
atalanta in camden-town 
four riddles 

iii 



PAGB 

3 

5 
42 

84 
103 
III 
112 

115 
116 
123 
127 
129 
131 
137 
140 

143 


















CONTENTS 

PAGB 

a valentine 152 

fame's penny-trumpet 155 

POEMS FROM "ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN 
WONDERLAND^ 

dedicatory poem 161 

the crocodile 163 

a caucus-race and a long tale . 164 

father william 165 

a lullaby 167 

the whiting and the snail . . 168 

'tis the voice of the lobster . 170 

turtle soup 171 

THE WHITE rabbit's VERSES . . . 172 

CHRISTMAS GREETINGS 174 

TWINKLE, TWINKLE 175 

POEMS FROM « THROUGH THE LOOKING- 
GLASS" 

DEDICATORY POEM . . . . . . 1 79 

JABBERWOCKY 181 

TWEEDLEDUM AND TWEEDLEDEE , . 183 

HUSH-A-BY LADY 1 83 

THE WALRUS AND THE CARPENTER . 1 84 
IN WINTER, WHEN THE FIELDS ARE 

WHITE 190 

iv 

N : , .: . . .^ 



■^ 



^^ 





m 






CONTENTS 

PAGB 

I'll tell thee everything i can 193 

to the looking-glass world . . 197 

the riddle of the fishes . . . i98 

life is but a dream 199 

POEMS FROM <*SYLVIE AND BRUNO ^' 

DEDICATORY POEM 203 

THE MANLET 204 

KING fisher's WOOING 2o8 

LITTLE BIRDS 2IO 

THE PIG TALE 213 

TING, TING, ting! 2l8 

the badgers and the herrings . 220 

Bessie's song to her doll . . . 223 

LOVE 224 

THE gardener's SONG 226 

PETER AND PAUL 229 

WHEN HE WAS FAR AWAY .... 239 

ONE THOUSAND POUNDS PER ANNUM 241 

A LESSON IN LATIN 245 

MY FANCY 247 








\ 











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^ 




ILLUSTRATIONS 

'so THEY DRANK TO HIS 

HEALTH, AND THEY 

GAVE HIM THREE 

CHEERS, 

WHILE HE SERVED OUT 

ADDITIONAL RATIONS" Frontispiece 

'he WOULD JOKE WITH HYAE- 
NAS, RETURNING THEIR 
STARE 
WITH AN IMPUDENT WAG 

OF THE HEAD "... Facing p. ID 
"but OH, BEAMISH NEPHEW, 
BEWARE OF THE DAY, 
IF YOUR SNARK BE A BOO- 

jum!'" 

'the boots AND THE BROKER 
WERE SHARPENING A 

SPADE 

vii 




22 




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B«»M- 



^v 



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I 





>,^ 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

EACH WORKING THE GRIND- 
STONE IN turn" . . 
'so ENGROSSED WAS THE 
BUTCHER, HE HEEDED 
THEM NOT, 
AS HE WROTE WITH A PEN 
IN EACH hand" . . 

'and had spoken three 
hours, before any one 
guessed 
what the pig was sup- 
POSED TO HAVE done" 
WITHOUT REST OR PAUSE — 
WHILE THOSE FRUMI- 
OUS JAWS 
WENT SAVAGELY SNAPPING 
AROUND — " .... 
IN THE MIDST OF THE WORD 
HE WAS TRYING TO SAY, 
IN THE MIDST OF HIS 
LAUGHTER AND GLEE " 
HE TREMBLED WHEN HE 
CAUGHT MY EYE, 
AND GOT BEHIND A CHAIR" 
"in CAVERNS BY THE WATER- 
SIDE, 



Facing p. 24 



30 



34 



38 



40 



44 



m 



t'fi 




ILLUSTRATIONS 

and other places that 
I've tried'" , . . 

'"to drop ALL FORMAL PAR- 
LEYING 

AND THEN YOU'RE SURE 
TO CATCH it!'" . . . 

'"inspector kobold came 

'^.'^. TO YOU ' 

THE LITTLE GHOST BEGAN " 
"'I'VE OFTEN SAT AND HOWL- 
ED FOR HOURS, 
DRENCHED TO THE SKIN WITH 
DRIVING showers'" 
"'he goes about and SITS 
ON FOLK 
THAT eat TOO- MUCH AT 

night'" 

'"in ARGUING, THE SIMPLE 
HEAT 
SCORCHED BOTH HIS SLIP- 
PERS OFF HIS feet!'" 

'"and art thou gone, be- 
loved GHOST? 
BEST OF familiars!'" . 

"yet WITH A tinge OF BIT- 
TERNESS, 

ix 



Facing p. 46 



52 



56 



62 



70 



76 



82 











ILLUSTRATIONS 

SHE SAID, 'the more EX- 
CEEDS THE less'" . . Facing p. 88 
"once more he WELTERED 
IN DESPAIR, 
WITH HANDS, THROUGH 

DENSER-MATTED HAIR" " lOO / 

'"oh, hush thee, GENTLE 

popinjay! 
oh, hush thee, doggie 

dear!'" " io6 

"and FOLLOWED DOON THE 
KITCHEN STAIR 
THAT PRINCE OF BUTTON- 

BOYS!" " I08 

"l HAD A VISION OF NURSERY- 
MAIDS; 
TENS OF THOUSANDS PASS- 
ED BY ME " .... " 112 

"next, HIS BETTER HALF 

TOOK courage; 

SHE WOULD HAVE HER PICT- 
URE taken" .... " ll8 
"last, the YOUNGEST SON 

WAS taken: 

VERY ROUGH AND THICK HIS 

HAIR was" " 1 20 

X 




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ILLUSTRATIONS 

'"how shall I BE A POET? 
HOW SHALL I WRITE IN 

RHYME?'" Facing p. I32 

"they doom TO PASS IN SOL- 
ITUDE THE HOURS, 
WRITING ACROSTIC BAL- 
LADS" " 146 

"rest YOUR OLD BONES, YE 
WRINKLED CRONES ! 
THE KETTLE SINGS, THE 

FIRELIGHT DANCES ". . " 148 

"be YOURS THE PAY! BE 
THEIRS THE PRAISE: 
WE WILL NOT ROB THEM 

OF THEIR due" ... " 156 

"'you are old, father 
william,' the young 

MAN SAID, 
'and your hair has BE- 
COME VERY white'" . " 164 
"beau — OOTIFUL SOO — OOP! 

BEAU — OOTIFUL SOO — OOP!". " 170 

'"and when I FOUND THE 
DOOR WAS LOCKED, 
I PULLED AND PUSHED AND 

KICKED AND KNOCKED'" " 190 

xi 







^L^^ "V^' 



^^^^i^^i;^" 



» 



7I\^ 



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ILLUSTRATIONS 

FIRST, THE FISH MUST BE 
CAUGHT ' 
THAT IS easy; a BABY, 
I THINK, COULD HAVE 
CAUGHT it" ... . Facing p. I98 
THEY BRISTLE BEFORE HIM 
AND AFTER, 
THEY FLUTTER ABOVE AND 

BELOW " " 204 

LITTLE BIRDS ARE FEEDING 

JUSTICES WITH jam" . . " 2IO 

OH, HORRID WAS THAT PIG's 

despair! 
his shrieks of anguish 

FILLED THE AIR" . . " 214 

UP ROSE THAT PIG, AND 
RUSHED, FULL WHACK, 
AGAINST THE RUINED 

pump" " 216 

thus the poor parents 

talked the time away, 
and wept, and wept, and 

wept" " 220 

clear rang their voices 

THROUGH THE OCEAN'S 
ROAR, 

xii 





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ILLUSTRATIONS 

'hooray, hooray, hoo- 
ray!'" Facing p. 222 

he thought he saw a 
kangaroo 
that worked a coffee- 

mill" " 226 

poor peter shuddered in 
de'spair; 
his flowing locks he 

WILDLY tore" ... " 230 

''and, NOW THE mischief's 

DONE, PERHAPS 
you'll KINDLY GO AND PACK 

YOUR TRAPS?'" .... " 244 





Decorations by 
Robert Murray Wright 





POEMS FROM 
''RHYME AND REASON 










DEDICATORY POEM 

Girt with a boyish garb for boyish task, 

Eager she wields her spade: yet loves as well 
Rest on a friendly knee, intent to ask 
The tale he loves to tell. 

Rude spirits of the seething outer strife, 

Unmeet to read her pure and simple spright, 
Deem, if you list, such hours a waste of life, 
Empty of all delight! 

Chat on, sweet Maid, and rescue from annoy 

Hearts that by wiser talk are unbeguiled; 
Ah, happy he who owns that tenderest joy. 
The heart-love of a child! 

Away, fond thoughts, and vex my soul no more! 
Work claims my wakeful nights, my busy days, 
Albeit bright memories of that sunlit shore 
Yet haunt my dreaming gaze! 
3 







r? 2Bo .j»fc Mt — fjt.^- 1 - 




"zmm 



v^ a- -A. Ji'J'X #/j£j:i 



KW^J 



M 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

AN AGONY IN EIGHT FITS 
PREFACE 



If — and the thing is wildly possible — the ^/ ) 
^^ charge of writing nonsense were ever brought 
against the author of this brief but instructive 
poem, it would be based, I feel convinced, on 
the line: 



"Then the bowsprit got mixed with the rud- 
.yc\ der sometimes": 

In view of this painful possibility, I will not 
(as I might) appeal indignantly to my other 
writings as a proof that I am incapable of 
such a deed: I will not (as I might) point to 
the strong moral purpose of this poem itself, 
to the arithmetical principles so cautiously 
5 





> 





THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

inculcated in it, or to its noble teachings 
in Natural History — I will take the more 
prosaic course of simply explaining how it 
happened. 

The Bellman, who was almost morbidly 
sensitive about appearances, used to have the 
bowsprit unshipped once or twice a week to 
be revarnished; and it more than once hap- 
pened, when the time came for replacing 
it, that no one on board could remember 
which end of the ship it belonged to. They 
knew it was not of the slightest use to appeal 
to the Bellman about it — he would only refer 
to his Naval Code, and read out in pathetic 
tones Admiralty Instructions which none of 
them had ever been able to understand — 
so it generally ended in its being fastened 
on, anyhow, across the rudder. The helms- 
man* used to stand by with tears in his eyes : 
he knew it was all wrong, but alas! Rule 

• This office was usually undertaken by the Boots, 
who found in it a refuge from the Baker's constant 
complaints about the insufficient blacking of his 
three pair of boots. 

6 



'm:% 



»s 











AND OTHER POEMS 





42 of the Code, "No one shall speak to the 
Man at the Helm,'" had been completed by 
the Bellman himself with the words "and 
the Man at the Helm shall speak to no one." 
So remonstrance was impossible, and no steer- 
ing could be done till the next varnishing % 
day. During these bewildering intervals the ^^» 
ship usually sailed backward. 

As this poem is to some extent connected 
with the lay of the Jabberwock, let me take 
this opportunity of answering a question that 
has often been asked me, how to pronounce 
' ' slithy toves. ' ' The " i " in " slithy ' ' is long, 
as in "writhe"; and "toves" is pronounced 
so as to rhyme with "groves." Again, the 
first "o" in "borogoves" is pronounced like 
the "o" in "borrow." I have heard people 
try to give it the sound of the "o" in 
"worry." Such is Human Perversity. 

This also seems a fitting occasion to notice 
the other hard words in that poem. Humpty- 
Dumpty's theory, of two meanings packed 
into one word like a portmanteau, seems to 
me the right explanation for all. 
7 






THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 



For instance, take the two words "fum- 
ing" and "furious." Make up your mind 
that you will say both words, but leave it 
unsettled which you will say first. Now 
open your mouth and speak. If your 
thoughts incline ever so little towards "fum- 
ing," you will say " fuming-furious " ; if they 
turn, by even a hair's - breadth, towards 
"furious," you will say "furious-fuming"; 
but if you have that rarest of gifts, a per- 
fectly balanced mind, you will say "frumi- 
ous." 

Supposing that, when Pistol uttered the 
well-known words — 



" Under which king, Bezonian? Speak or die!" 

! Justice Shallow had felt certain that it was 
I either William or Richard, but had not been 
'', able to settle which, so that he could not 
] possibly say either name before the other, 
; can it be doubted that, rather than die, he 
I would have gasped out "Rilchiam!" 





./At; 



FIT THE FIRST — THE LANDING 

"Just the place for a Snark!" the Bellman cried, 

As he landed his crew with care; 
Supporting each man on the top of the tide 

By a finger entwined in his hair. 




"Just the place for a Snark! I have said it twice: 
That alone should encourage the crew. 

Just the place for a Snark! I have said it thrice: 
What I tell you three times is true." 

The crew was complete: it included a Boots — 

A maker of Bonnets and Hoods — 
A Barrister, brought to arrange their disputes — 

And a Broker, to value their goods. 

A Billiard-marker, whose skill was immense, 
Might perhaps have won more than his share — 

But a Banker, engaged at enormous expense. 
Had the whole of their cash in his care. 

9 





^^=*^^^ "■••.../.^«^ 



p^ 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

There was also a Beaver, that paced on the deck, L. 

Or would sit making lace in the bow: f> 
And had often (the Bellman said) saved them from wreck 

Though none of the sailors knew how, u 



There was one who was famed for the number of things 

He forgot when he entered the ship: 
His umbrella, his watch, all his jewels and rings, 

And the clothes he had bought for the trip. 

He had forty-two boxes, all carefully packed, 
With his name painted clearly on each: 

But, since he omitted to mention the fact. 
They were all left behind on the beach. 

The loss of his clothes hardly mattered, because 

He had seven coats on when he came, 
With three pair of boots — but the worst of it was. 

He had wholly forgotten his name. 



t^ 



He would answer to "Hi!" or to any loud cry. 
Such as "Fry me!" or "Fritter my wig!" 

To "What-you-may-call-um!" or " What-was-his-name!" 
But especially "Thing-um-a-jig!" 




■"'••. ..^*-••.■»^ 




' He would joke with hyaznas, returning their stare 
With an impudent wag of the head" 



AND OTHER POEMS 



While, for those who preferred a more forcible word, 

He had different names from these: 
His intimate friends called him "Candle-ends," 

And his enemies "Toasted-cheese." 

"His form is ungainly — his intellect small — " 
(So the Bellman would often remark) — 

"But his courage is perfect! And that, after all, 
Is the thing that one needs with a Snark." 



Vj 



He would joke with hyaenas, returning their stare 

With an impudent wag of the head: 
And he once went a walk, paw-in-paw, with a bear, 

"Just to keep up its spirits," he said. 

He came as a Baker: but owned, when too late — 
And it drove the poor Bellman half-mad — 

He could only bake Bride-cake — for which, I may state, 
No materials were to be had. 

The last of the crew needs especial remark. 
Though he looked an incredible dunce: 

He had just one idea — but, that one being "Snark," 
The good Bellman engaged him at once. 






/f 



^. 






i 



if''* 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

He came as a Butcher: but gravely declared, 
When the ship had been sailing a week, 

He could only kill Beavers. The Bellman looked scared. 
And was almost too frightened to speak: 

But at length he explained, in a tremulous tone, 

There was only one Beaver on board; 
And that was a tame one he had of his own, 

Whose death would be deeply deplored. 

The Beaver, who happened to hear the remark, 

Protested, with tears in its eyes. 
That not even the rapture of hunting the Snark 

Could atone for that dismal surprise! 

It strongly advised that the Butcher should be 

Conveyed in a separate ship: 
But the Bellman declared that would never agree 

With the plans he had made for the trip: 

Navigation was always a difficult art, 
Though with only one ship and one bell: 

And he feared he must really decline, for his part 
Undertaking another as well. 



f^^'-A 









AND OTHER POEMS 

The Beaver's best course was, no doubt, to procure 

A second-hand, dagger-proof coat — 
So the Baker advised it — and next, to insure 

Its life in some Office of note: 




This the Banker suggested, and offered for hire 
(On moderate terms), or for sale, 

Two excellent Policies, one Against Fire, 
And one Against Damage From Hail. 



^^t:^ 



Yet still, ever after that sorrowful day, 
Whenever the Butcher was by. 

The Beaver kept looking the opposite way. 
And appeared unaccountably shy. 




13 



'i-" * 







FIT THE SECOND— THE BELLMAN'S SPEECH 

The Bellman himself they all praised to the skies — 
Such a carriage, such ease and such grace! 

Such solemnity, too! One could see he was wise 
The moment one looked in his face! 

He had bought a large map representing the sea, 

Without the least vestige of land: 
And the crew were much pleased when they found it to be 

A map they could all understand. 

"What's the good of Mercator's North Poles and Equators, 

Tropics, Zones, and Meridian Lines?" 
So the Bellman would cry: and the crew would reply, 

"They are merely conventional signs! 

"Other maps are such shapes, with their islands and capes! 

But we've got our brave Captain to thank" 
(So the crew would protest) "that he's bought us the best — 

A perfect and absolute blank!" 

14 




/A 





THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

LATITUDE NORTH EQUATOR 




Scale of Miles, 




OCEAN-CHART. 

15 






•fy 



^*^' 






THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

This was charming, no doubt: but they shortly found 
out 

That the Captain they trusted so well 
Had only one notion for crossing the ocean, 

And that was to tingle his bell. 



'\, i^ 



He was thoughtful and grave — but the orders he gave 

Were enough to bewilder a crew. 
When he cried, "Steer to starboard, but keep her head 
larboard!" 

What on earth was the helmsman to do? 



Then the bowsprit got mixed with the rudder sometimes : 

A thing, as the Bellman remarked, 
That frequently happens in tropical climes. 

When a vessel is, so to speak, "snarked." 



:s! 



But the principal failing occurred in the sailing, 
And the Bellman, perplexed and distressed. 

Said he had hoped, at least, when the wind blew due east, 
That the ship would not travel due west! 

But the danger was past — they had landed at last, 
With their boxes, portmanteaus, and bags: 



i6 



,c*-'**'*v^ 








AND OTHER POEMS 

Yet at first sight the crew were not pleased with the view, 
Which consisted of chasms and crags. 

The Bellman perceived that their spirits were low, 

And repeated in musical tone 
Some jokes he had kept for a season of woe — 

But the crew would do nothing but groan. 

He served out some grog with a liberal hand, 
And bade them sit down on the beach: 

And they could not but own that their Captain looked 
grand, 
As he stood and delivered his speech. 

"Friends, Romans, and countrymen, lend me your ears!" 
(They were all of them fond of quotations: 

So they drank to his health, and they gave him three 
cheers. 
While he served out additional rations). 



" We have sailed many months, we have sailed many weeks, 
(Four weeks to the month you may mark), 

But never as yet ('tis your Captain who speaks) 
Have we caught the least glimpse of a Snark! 



17 



•^ 







THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"We have sailed many weeks, we have sailed many days, \ 

(Seven days to the week I allow), 
But a Snark, on the which we might lovingly gaze. 

We have never beheld till now! 

"Come, listen, my men, while I tell you again 

The five unmistakable marks J 

By which you may know, wheresoever you go, ' 

The warranted genuine Snarks. 

"Let us take them in order. The first is the taste, , 

Which is meagre and hollow, but crisp: | 

Like a coat that is rather too tight in the waist, *Sj 

With a flavor of Will-o'-the-wisp. ^ 



wf 
^ 



"Its habit of getting up late you'll agree 
That it carries too far, when I say 

That it frequently breakfasts at five-o'clock tea. 
And dines on the following day. 

"The third is its slowness in taking a jest. 

Should you happen to venture on one, 
It will sigh like a thing that is deeply distressed: 

And it always looks grave at a pun. 





AND OTHER POEMS 

"The fourth is its fondness for bathing-machines, 

Which it constantly carries about, 
And beHeves that they add to the beauty of scenes — 

A sentiment open to doubt. 

"The fifth is ambition. It next will be right 

To describe each particular batch: 
Distinguishing those that have feathers, and bite, 

From those that have whiskers, and scratch. 

"For, although common Snarks do no manner of harm. 

Yet I feel it my duty to say 
Some are Boojums — " The Bellman broke off in alarm. 

For the Baker had fainted away. 



19 




■i 



■)? 






FIT THE THIRD— THE BAKER'S TALE 

They roused him with muffins — they roused him with 
ice — 

They roused him with mustard and cress — 
They roused him with jam and judicious advice — 

They set him conundrums to guess. 

When at length he sat up and was able to speak, 

His sad story he offered to tell; 
And the Bellman cried, "Silence! Not even a shriek!" 

And excitedly tingled his bell. 

There was silence supreme! Not a shriek, not a scream, 

Scarcely even a howl or a groan. 
As the man they called "Ho!" told his story of woe 

In an antediluvian tone. 

"My father and mother were honest, though poor — " 
"Skip all that!" cried the Bellman in haste. 

" If it once becomes dark, there's no chance of a Snark — 
We have hardly a minute to waste! 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"I skip forty years," said the Baker, in tears, 

"And proceed without further remark 
To the day when you took me aboard of your ship 

To help you in hunting the Snark. 

"A dear uncle of mine (after whom I was named) 
Remarked, when I bade him farewell — " 

"Oh, skip your dear uncle!" the Bellman exclaimed, 
As he angrily tingled his bell. 

"He remarked to me then," said that mildest of men, 
"'If your Snark be a Snark, that is right: 

Fetch it home by all means — you may serve it with greens 
And it's handy for striking a light. 

"'You may seek it with thimbles — and seek it with care; 

You may hunt it with forks and hope; 
You may threaten its life with a railway-share; 

You may charm it with smiles and soap — '" 

("That's exactly the method," the Bellman bold 

In a hasty parenthesis cried, 
"That's exactly the way I have always been told 

That the capture of Snarks should be tried!") 

21 




^>^'i:'-^"-^^5^2^^ 






THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

'"But oh, beamish nephew, beware of the day, 

If your Snark be a Boojum! For then 
You will softly and suddenly vanish away, 

And never be met with again!' 

I* 
s 

"It is this, it is this that oppresses my soul. 

When I think of my uncle's last words: 
And my heart is like nothing so much as a bowl i 

Brimming over with quivering curds! 

"It is this, it is this — " "We have had that before!" 

The Bellman indignantly said. 
And the Baker replied, "Let me say it once more. 

It is this, it is this that I dread! 

"I engage with the Snark — every night after dark — 

In a dreamy delirious fight: 
I serve it with greens in those shadowy scenes, 

And I use it for striking a light: 

"But if ever I meet with a Boojum, that day. 

In a moment (of this I am sure), 
I shall softly and suddenly vanish away — 

And the notion I cannot endure!" 





" * But oh, beamish nephew, beware of the day, 
If your Snark be a Boojum!'" 



FIT THE FOURTH — THE HUNTING 

The Bellman looked uffish, and wrinkled his brow. 

"If only you'd spoken before! 
It's excessively awkward to mention it now, 

With the Snark, so to speak, at the door! 

"We should all of us grieve, as you well may believe, 

If you never were met with again — 
But surely, my man; when the voyage began, 

You might have suggested it then? 

"It's excessively awkward to mention it now — 

As I think I've already remarked." 
And the man they called "Hi!" replied, with a sigh, 

"I informed you the day we embarked. 

"You may charge me with murder — or want of sense — 

(We are all of us weak at times): 
But the slightest approach to a false pretence 

Was never among my crimes! 

33 



rl 





Sv.-->>""^-'-:^^ 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"I said it in Hebrew — I said it in Dutch — 

I said it in German and Greek: 
But I wholly forgot (and it vexes me much) 

That Enghsh is what you speak!" 

'"Tis a pitiful tale," said the Bellman, whose face 

Had grown longer at every word: 
"But, now that you've stated the whole of your case, 

More debate would be simply absurd. 

"The rest of my speech" (he explained to his men) 
"You shall hear when I've leisure to speak it. 

But the Snark is at hand, let me tell you again! 
'Tis your glorious duty to seek it! 

"To seek it with thimbles, to seek it with care; 

To pursue it with forks and hope; 
To threaten its life with a railway-share; 

To charm it with smiles and soap! 

"For the Snark's a peculiar creature, that won't 

Be caught in a commonplace way. 
Do all that you know, and try all that you don't: 

Not a chance must be wasted to-day! 

24 



s^- 



ASk 



AND OTHER POEMS 

"For England expects — I forbear to proceed: 

'Tis a maxim tremendous, but trite: 
And you'd best be unpacking the things that you need 

To rig yourselves out for the fight." 



...Z^^ 






Then the Banker endorsed a blank check (which he crossed), 

And changed his loose silver for notes: 
The Baker with care combed his whiskers and hair, 

And shook the dust out of his coats: 

The Boots and the Broker were sharpening a spade — 

Each working the grindstone in turn: 
But the Beaver went on making lace, and displayed 

No interest in the concern: 

Though the Barrister tried to appeal to its pride, 

And vainly proceeded to cite 
A number of cases, in which making laces 

Had been proved an infringement of right. 



The maker of Bonnets ferociously planned 

A novel arrangement of bows: 
While the Billiard-marker with quivering hand 

Was chalking the tip of his nose. 

25 



^^^^^^fe 






THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

But the Butcher turned nervous, and dressed himself fine, 

With yellow kid gloves and a ruff — 
Said he felt it exactly like going to dine, 

Which the Bellman declared was all "stuff." 



"Introduce me, now there's a good fellow," he said, 
^^.. "If we happen to meet it together!" 

'f^ j3 And the Bellman, sagaciously nodding his head, 
Said, "That must depend on the weather." 



f^ 



The Beaver went simply galumphing about, 
^ At seeing the Butcher so shy: 

And even the Baker, though stupid and stout, 
Made an effort to wink with one eye. 



i 



"Be a man!" cried the Bellman in wrath, as he heard 

The Butcher beginning to sob. 
"Should we meet with a Jubjub, that desperate bird, 

We shall need all our strength for the job!" 



26 



WC 



tW{\ 



^¥ 



f<% 



FIT THE FIFTH — THE BEAVER'S LESSON 



i:^! 



They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care; 

They pursued it with forks and hope; 
They threatened its Hfe with a railway-share; ^, 

They charmed it with smiles and soap. 

Then the Butcher contrived an ingenious plan 

For making a separate sally; 
And had fixed on a spot unfrequented by man, 

A dismal and desolate valley. 

But the very same plan to the Beaver occurred: 

It had chosen the very same place: 
Yet neither betrayed, by a sign or a word, 

The disgust that appeared in his face. 

Each thought he was thinking of nothing but "Snark" 

And the glorious work of the day; 
And each tried to pretend that he did not remark 

That the other was going that way. 

27 





THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

But the valley grew narrow and narrower still, 
And the evening got darker and colder, 

Till (merely from nervousness, not from good- will) 
They marched along shoulder to shoulder. 

Then a scream, shrill and high, rent the shuddering sky, 
And they knew that some danger was near: 

The Beaver turned pale to the tip of its tail. 
And even the Butcher felt queer. 

He thought of his childhood, left far, far behind — 

That blissful and innocent state — 
The sound so exactly recalled to his mind 

A pencil that squeaks on a slate! 

"'Tis the voice of the Jubjub!" he suddenly cried. 

(This man, that they used to call "Dunce.") 
"As the Bellman would tell you," he added, with pride, 

"I have uttered that sentiment once. 



"'Tis the note of the Jubjub! Keep count, I entreat, 
You will find I have told it you twice. 

'Tis the song of the Jubjub! The proof is complete, 
If only I've stated it thrice." 

28 

r 




\i 



AND OTHER POEMS 

The Beaver had counted with scrupulous care, 

Attending to every word: 
But it fairly lost heart, and outgrabe in despair, 

When the third repetition occurred. 

It felt that, in spite of all possible pains, 
It had somehow contrived to lose count, 

And the only thing now was to rack its poor brains 
By reckoning up the amount. 





"Two added to one — if that could but be done," 
It said, "with one's fingers and thumbs!" 

Recollecting with tears how, in earlier years, 
It had taken no pains with its sums. 



"The thing can be done," said the Butcher, "I think. 

The thing must be done, I am sure. 
The thing shall be done! Bring me paper and ink, 

The best there is time to procure." 

The Beaver brought paper, portfolio, pens, 

And ink in unfailing suppHes: 
While strange, creepy creatures came out of their dens. 

And watched them with wondering eyes. 

29 





THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

So engrossed was the Butcher, he heeded them not, 
^ As he wrote with a pen in each hand, 

And explained all the while in a popular style 
Which the Beaver could well understand. 



ViT] 



-y 



"Taking Three as the subject to reason about — 

A convenient number to state — 
We add Seven, and Ten, and then multiply out 

By One Thousand diminished by Eight. 

"The result we proceed to divide, as you see, 
By Nine Hundred and Ninety and Two: 

Then subtract Seventeen, and the answer must be 
Exactly and perfectly true. 



"The method employed I would gladly explain, 
While I have it so clear in my head. 

If I had but the time and you had but the brain — 
But much yet remains to be said. 

"In one moment I've seen what has hitherto been 

Enveloped in absolute mystery, 
And without extra charge I will give you at large 

A Lesson in Natural History." 
30 





" So engrossed ■was the Butcher, he heeded them not, 
As he wrote with a pen in each hand" 



AND OTHER POEMS 

In his genial way he proceeded to say 

(Forgetting all laws of propriety, 
And that giving instruction, without introduction. 

Would have caused quite a thrill in Society), 

"As to temper, the Jubjub's a desperate bird, 
Since it lives in perpetual passion: 

Its taste in costume is entirely absurd — 
It is ages ahead of the fashion: 

P "But it knows any friend it has met once before: 

J It never will look at a bribe: 

u. And in charity-meetings it stands at the door, 

^ And collects — though it does not subscribe. 

"Its flavor when cooked is more exquisite far 
Than mutton, or oysters, or eggs: 
,1 (Some think it keeps best in an ivory jar, 
And some, in mahogany kegs:) 

"You boil it in sawdust: you salt it in glue: 
You condense it with locusts and tape: 

Still keeping one principal object in view — 
To preserve its symmetrical shape." 



31 



N 






'''Wit, 



'¥'f--'/mh 



' 




"^- 



^■^ 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

The Butcher would gladly have talked till next day, 

But he felt that the Lesson must end, 
And he wept with delight in attempting to say 

He considered the Beaver his friend: 

While the Beaver confessed, with affectionate looks 

More eloquent even than tears, 
It had learned in ten minutes far more than all books 

Would have taught it in seventy years. 



They returned hand-in-hand, and the Bellman, unmanned 

(For a moment) with noble emotion, 
Said, "This amply repays all the wearisome days 

We have spent on the billowy ocean!" 



Such friends as the Beaver and Butcher became 

Have seldom, if ever, been known; 
In winter or summer, 'twas always the same — 

You could never meet either alone. 

And when quarrels arose — as one frequently finds 
Quarrels will, spite of every endeavor — 

The song of the Jubjub recurred to their minds, 
And cemented their friendship forever! 

32 



'«?^-r^:.,': 



■o^^^ 




FX^.. 




vfi?;-? 



FIT THE SIXTH — THE BARRISTER'S DREAM 

They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care; 

They pursued it with forks and hope; 
They threatened its life with a railway-share; 

They charmed it with smiles and soap. 

But the Barrister, weary of proving in vain 
That the Beaver's lace-making was wrong, 

Fell asleep, and in dreams saw the creature quite plain 
That his fancy had dwelt on so long. 

He dreamed that he stood in a shadowy Court, 
Where the Snark, with a glass in its eye. 

Dressed in gown, bands, and wig, was defending a pig 
On the charge of deserting its sty. 



The Witnesses proved, without error or flaw. 
That the sty was deserted when found: 

And the Judge kept explaining the state of the law 
In a soft undercurrent of sound. 
3 33 





THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

The indictment had never been clearly expressed, 
And it seemed that the Snark had begun, 

And had spoken three hours, before any one guessed 
What the pig was supposed to have done. 

The Jury had each formed a different view 

(Long before the indictment was read), 
And they all spoke at once, so that none. of them knew 

One word that the others had said. 

"You must know — " said the Judge: but the Snark ex- 
claimed, "Fudge! 
That statute is obsolete quite! 
Let me tell you, my friends, the whole question de- 
pends 
On an ancient manorial right. 

"In the matter of Treason the pig would appear 

To have aided, but scarcely abetted: 
While the charge of Insolvency fails, it is clear, 

If you grant the plea 'never indebted.' 



The fact of Desertion I will not dispute: 
But its guilt, as I trust, is removed 

34 



'^m>,^M^^y^ 







AND OTHER POEMS 

(So far as relates to the costs of this suit) 
By the Alibi, which has been proved. 

"My poor client's fate now depends on your votes." 

Here the speaker sat down in his place, 
And directed the Judge to refer to his notes 

And briefly to sum up the case. 

But the Judge said he never had summed up before; 

So the Snark undertook it instead, 
And summed it so well that it came to far more 

Than the Witnesses ever had said! 

When the verdict was called for, the Jury declined, 

As the word was so puzzling to spell; 
But they ventured to hope that the Snark wouldn't 

mind ■ iQir.fcv 

ftrVw 

Undertaking that duty as well. '^^^^^ '• 

So the Snark found the verdict, although, as it owned, 

It was spent with the toils of the day: 
When it said the word "GUILTY!" the Jury all 
groaned 
And some of them fainted away. 

35 




# 







-^V THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

I' Then the Snark pronounced sentence, the Judge being quite 
'l&^ Too nervous to utter a word: 

('■•.'^^'^ When it rose to its feet, there was silence like night, 
^•' , And the fall of a pin might be heard. 

"Transportation for life" was the sentence it gave, 

"And then to be fined forty pound." 
The Jury all cheered, though the Judge said he feared 

That the phrase was not legally sound. 

l^'- But their wild exultation was suddenly checked 
!?"' When the jailer informed them, with tears, 

Such a sentence would have not the slightest effect, 
fc4 As the pig had been dead for some years. 



The Judge left the Court, looking deeply disgusted: 
But the Snark, though a little aghast, 

As the lawyer to whom the defence was intrusted. 
Went bellowing on to the last. 



I 



Thus the Barrister dreamed, while the bellowing seemed 

To grow every moment more clear: 
Till he woke to the knell of a furious bell, 

Which the Bellman rang close at his ear. 

36 ( 






^■<^^^ 




FIT THE SEVENTH— THE BANKER'S FATE 

They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care; 

They pursued it with forks and hope; 
They threatened its Hfe with a railway-share; 

They charmed it with smiles and soap. 

And the Banker, inspired with a courage so new 

It was matter for general remark, 
Rushed madly ahead and was lost to their view 

In his zeal to discover the Snark. 



But while he was seeking with thimbles and care, 

A Bandersnatch swiftly drew nigh 
And grabbed at the Banker, who shrieked in despair, 

For he knew it was useless to fly. 

He offered large discount — he offered a check 

(Drawn "to bearer") for seven-pounds-ten: 
But the Bandersnatch merely extended its neck 

And grabbed at the Banker again. 

37 '^. 



^^4 



■■vlJ4 



^ 



^•1 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Without rest or pause — while those frumious jaws 

Went savagely snapping around — 
He skipped and he hopped, and he floundered and flopped, 

Till, fainting, he fell to the ground. 

The Bandersnatch fled as the others appeared, 

Led on by that fear-stricken yell: 
And the Bellman remarked, "It is just as I feared!" 

And solemnly tolled on his bell. 

He was black in the face, and they scarcely could trace 
The least likeness to what he had been: 

While so great was his fright that his waistcoat turned 
white — 
A wonderful thing to be seen! 

To the horror of all who were present that day, 

He uprose in full evening dress. 
And with senseless grimaces endeavored to say 

What his tongue .could no longer express. 

Down he sank in a chair — ran his hands through his 
hair — 
And chanted in mimsiest tones 

38 





"Without rest or pause — while those frumious jaws 
Went savagely snapping around — " 



^?:: 



AND OTHER POEMS 

Words whose utter inanity proved his insanity, 
While he rattled a couple of bones. 

"Leave him here to his fate — it is getting so late!" 

The Bellman exclaimed in a fright. 
"We have lost half the day. Any further delay, 

And we sha'n't catch a Snark before night!" 






!^ 





FIT THE EIGHTH— THE VANISHING 

f^^' They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care; 
^ J n They pursued it with forks and hope; 
'^ ' They threatened its hfe with a railway-share; 
They charmed it with smiles and soap. 

They shuddered to think that the chase might fail, 

And the Beaver, excited at last, 
Went bounding along on the tip of its tail, 

For the daylight was nearly past. 

"There is Thingumbob shouting!" the Bellman said. 
^, "He is shouting like mad, only hark! 

He is waving his hands, he is wagging his head, 
He has certainly found a Snark!" 

They gazed in delight, while the Butcher exclaimed, 

"He was always a desperate wag!" 
They beheld him — their Baker — their hero unnamed — 

On the top of a neighboring crag, 

\ 40 




'* In the midst of the word he was trying to say. 
In the midst of his laughter and glee" 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Erect and sublime, for one moment of time. 

In the next, that wild figure they saw 
(As if stung by a spasm) plunge into a chasm, 

While they waited and listened in awe. 

"It's a Snark!" was the sound that first came to their ears, 
And seemed almost too good to be true. 

Then followed a torrent of laughter and cheers: 
Then the ominous words, "It's a Boo — " 

Then, silence. Some fancied they heard in the air 

A weary and wandering sigh 
That sounded like " — jum!" but the others declare 

It was only a breeze that went by. 



i 






"¥ 



1 



ii 



i 



They hunted till darkness came on, but they found 

Not a button, or feather, or mark 
By which they could tell that they stood on the ground 

Where the Baker had met with the Snark. 



liilh 



In the midst of the word he was trying to say, 
In the midst of his laughter and glee. 

He had softly and suddenly vanished away — 
For the Snark was a Boojum, you see. 

41 



'm\V^ 



v""0 



l^^-^-^-"- 



PHANTASMAGORIA 



^ 



PI 



CANTO I. — THE TRYSTYNG 

One winter night, at half-past nine, 
Cold, tired, and cross, and muddy, 
I had come home too late to dine. 
And supper, with cigars and wine. 
Was waiting in the study. 

There was a strangeness in the room, 

And Something white and wavy 
Was standing near me in the gloom — 
/ took it for the carpet-broom 
Left by that careless slavey. 






But presently the Thing began 

To shiver and to sneeze: 
On which I said, "Come, come, my man! 
That's a most inconsiderate plan. 

Less noise there, if you please!" 
42 





THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"I've caught a cold," the Thing replies, 

"Out there upon the landing." 
I turned to look in some surprise. 
And there, before my very eyes, 
A little Ghost was standing! 

He trembled when he caught my eye. 

And got behind a chair. 
"How came you here," I said, "and why? 
I never saw a thing so shy. 

Come out! Don't shiver there!" 

He said, "I'd gladly tell you how, 

And also tell you why; 
But" (here he gave a little bow) 
"You're in so bad a temper now. 

You'd think it all a lie. 

"And as to being in a fright, 

Allow me to remark 
That Ghosts have just as good a right, 
In every way, to fear the light. 

As Men to fear the dark." 

43 






•V^lp 





THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"No plea," said I, "can well excuse 

Such cowardice in you: 
For Ghosts can visit when they choose, 
Whereas we Humans can't refuse 

To grant the interview." 




V 



He said, "A flutter of alarm / 

Is not unnatural, is it? 
I really feared you meant some harm: 
But, now I see that you are calm, 

Let me explain my visit. 

"Houses are classed, I beg to state, 

According to the number 
Of Ghosts that they accommodate: 
(The Tenant merely counts as weight, 

With Coals and other lumber). 

"This is a 'one-ghost' house, and you, 

When you arrived last summer. 
May have remarked a Spectre who I 

Was doing all that Ghosts can do 

f To welcome the new-comer. 

V . 44 




"He trembled when he caught my eye, 
And got behind a chair" 



AND OTHER POEHS 

"In Villas this is always done — 

However cheaply rented: 
For, though of course there's less of fun 
When there is only room for one, 

Ghosts have to be contented. 

"That Spectre left you on the Third — 
Since then you've not been haunted: 
For, as he never sent us word, 
'Twas quite by accident we heard 
That any one was wanted. 



r^ 



"A Spectre has first choice, by right, 

In filling up a vacancy; 
Then Phantom, Goblin, Elf, and Sprite — 
If all these fail them, they invite 

The nicest Ghoul that they can see. 

"The Spectres said the place was low, 

And that you kept bad wine: 
So, as a Phantom had to go. 
And I was first, of course, you know, 
I couldn't well decline." 
45 




^i:^ 




\i'v 



^^^^*^-v 




Vl.s 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"No doubt," said I, "they settled who 

Was fittest to be sent: 
Yet still to choose a brat like you, 
To haunt a man of forty-two, 

Was no great compHment!" 

"I'm not so young, sir," he replied, 

" As you might think. The fact is. 
In caverns by the water-side, 
And other places that I've tried, 
I've had a lot of practice: 



"But I have never taken yet 

A strict domestic part, 
And in my flurry I forget 
The Five Good Rules of Etiquette 

We have to know by heart." 

My sympathies were warming fast 

Towards the little fellow: 
He was so utterly aghast 
At having found a Man at last. 
And looked so scared and yellow. 
46 



t 





"In caverns fay the water-side, 
And other places that I've tried'" 



:£2M»*ii^i 



AND OTHER POEMS 

"At least," I said, "I'm glad to find 

A Ghost is not a dumb thing! 
But pray sit down: you'll feel inclined 
(If, like myself, you have not dined) 
To take a snack of something: 

"Though, certainly, you don't appear 

A thing to offer food to! 
And then I shall be glad to hear — 
If you will say them loud and clear — 

The Rules that you allude to." 




" Thanks ! You shall hear them by-and-by- 

This is a piece of luck!" 
"What may I offer you?" said I. 
"Well, since you are so kind, I'll try 

A little bit of duck. 






"One slice! And may I ask you for 

Another drop of gravy?" 
I sat and looked at him in awe, 
For certainly I never saw 

A thing so white and wavy. 
47 





T* 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

And still he seemed to grow more white, 

More vapory, and wavier — 
Seen in the dim and flickering light, 
As he proceeded to recite 

His "Maxims of Behavior." 




Jk:M 



48 



I 



^^■^cr 




,r 




y/ (0%- 



^ii.'-v- 



^ 



.^'*^i?^ 






CANTO II.— HYS FYVE RULES 

"My First — but don't suppose," he said, 

"I'm setting you a riddle — 
Is — if your Victim be in bed, 
Don't touch the curtains at his head, 
But take them in the middle, 

"And wave them slowly in and out. 

While drawing them asunder; 
And in a minute's time, no doubt, 
He'll raise his head and look about 
With eyes of wrath and wonder. 

"And here you must on no pretence 
Make the first observation. 

Wait for the Victim to commence. 

No Ghost of any common-sense 
Begins a conversation. 

4 49 






i^rcf^i 






THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"If he should say, 'How came you here?' 

(The way that you began, sir,) 
In such a case your course is clear — 
'On the bat's back, my little dear T 
Is the appropriate answer. 

"If after this he says no more, 

You'd best perhaps curtail your 
Exertions — go and shake the door, 
And then, if he begins to snore. 
You'll know the thing's a failure. 

"By day, if he should be alone — 

At home or on a walk — 
You merely give a hollow groan, 
To indicate the kind of tone 

In which you mean to talk, 

"But if you find him with his friends, 

The thing is rather harder. 
In such a case success depends 
On picking up some candle-ends. 
Or butter, in the larder, 
so 



y 



AND OTHER POEMS 



"With this you make a kind of slide 

(It answers best with suet), 
On which you must contrive to ghde, 
And swing yourself from side to side — 
One soon leams how to do it. 

"The Second tells us what is right 
■■^'"'' In ceremonious calls: — 

'First burn a blue or crimson light' 
(A thing I quite forgot to-night), 
'Then scratch the door or walls.'" 

I said, "You'll visit here no more. 

If you attempt the Guy. 
I'll have no bonfires on my floor — 
And, as for scratching at the door, 

I'd like to see you try!" 

"The Third was written to protect 

The interests of the Victim, 
And tells us, as I recollect, 
To treat him with a grave respect. 
And not to contradict him." 
SI 




P- 






'6^ 



.'".s^ta. 





THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"That's plain," said I, "as Tare and Tret, 

To any comprehension: 
I only wish some Ghosts I've met 
Would not so constantly forget 

The maxim that you mention!" 

"Perhaps," he said, "you first transgressed 

The laws of hospitality: 
All Ghosts instinctively detest 
The Man that fails to treat his guest \ 

With proper cordiality. 




"If you address a Ghost as 'Thing!' 

Or strike him with a hatchet, 
He is permitted by the King 
To drop all formal parleying — 
And then you're sure to catch it! 




"The Fourth prohibits trespassing 

Where other Ghosts are quartered: 
And those convicted of the thing 
' (Unless when pardoned by the King) 
Must instantly be slaughtered. 
52 






Di^^i?^^ 




"To drop all formal parleying— 

And then you're sure to catch itP" 



-Vri O"^ - 




AND OTHER POEMS 

"That simply means 'be cut up small': 

Ghosts soon unite anew: 
The process scarcely hurts at all — ( ^ 

Not more than when you're what you call 

'Cut up' by a Review. 

^^ 

"The Fifth is one you may prefer 

That I should quote entire: — 
The King must be addressed as 'Sir.' 
This, from a simple courtier, 

Is all the Laws require: 




''But, should you wish to do the thing 

With out-and-out politeness, 
Accost him as 'My Goblin King!' 
And always use, in answering. 

The phrase, ' Your Royal Whiteness P 



t #■••>- 




"I'm getting rather hoarse, I fear, 

After so much reciting: 
So, if you don't object, my dear, 
T^d^ We'll try a glass of bitter beer — 
^ fs^^ I think it looks inviting." 
^fellf S3 





^^. 



'A 




CANTO IIL — SCARMOGES 

"And did you really walk," said I, 
"On such a wretched night? 

I always fancied Ghosts could fly — 

If not exactly in the sky, 
Yet at a fairish height." 




"It's very well," said he, "for Kings 

To soar above the earth: 
But Phantoms often find that wings — 
Like many other pleasant things — 

Cost more than they are worth. 

"Spectres, of course, are rich, and so 

Can buy them from the Elves: 
But we prefer to keep below — 
They're stupid company, you know. 
For any but themselves: 
54 





-W^'l'JL; 



i:^^^'^ 

'^"•'--r 







THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"For, though they claim to be exempt 

From pride, they treat a Phantom 
As something quite beneath contempt — 
Just as no Turkey ever dreamt 
Of noticing a Bantam." 

"They seem too proud," said I, "to go 

To houses such as mine. 
Pray, how did they contrive to know 
So quickly that 'the place was low,' 

And that I 'kept bad wine'?" 

"Inspector Kobold came to you — " 

The little Ghost began. 
Here I broke in. "Inspector who? 
Inspecting Ghosts is something new! 

Explain yourself, my man!" 

"His name is Kobold," said my guest: 

"One of the Spectre order: 
You'll very often see him dressed 
In a yellow gown, a crimson vest. 
And a night-cap with a border. 
55 









HUNTING OF THE SNARK 



"He tried the Brocken business first, 

But caught a sort of chill; 
So came to England to be nursed, 
And here it took the form of thirst, 

Which he complains of still. 

"Port-wine, he says, when rich and sound, 
"Warms his old bones like nectar: 

And as the inns where it is found 

Are his especial hunting-ground, 
We call him the Inn-Spectre." 

I bore it — bore it like a man — 

This agonizing witticism! 
And nothing could be sweeter than 
My temper, till the Ghost began 

Some most provoking criticism. 

"Cooks need not be indulged in waste; 

Yet still you'd better teach them 
Dishes should have some sort of taste. 
Pray, why are all the cruets placed 

Where nobody can reach them? 
56 



I 





** * Inspector Kobold came to you- 
The little Ghost began " 




AND OTHER POEMS 

"That man of yours will never earn 

His living as a waiter! 
Is that queer thing supposed to bum? 
(It's far too dismal a concern 

To call a Moderator.) 

"The duck was tender, but the pease 

Were very much too old: 
And just remember, if you please, 
The next time you have toasted cheese, 

Don't let them send it cold. 




"You'd find the bread improved, I think, 

By getting better flour: 
And have you anything to drink 
That looks a little less like ink, 

And isn't quite so sour?" 

Then, peering round with curious eyes, 

He muttered, "Goodness gracious!" 
And so went on to criticise — 
"Your room's an inconvenient size: 
It's neither snug nor spacious. 
57 



w 





I 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"That narrow window, I expect, 

Serves but to let the dusk in — " 
"But please," said I, "to recollect 
'Twas fashioned by an architect 
Who pinned his faith on Ruskin!" 

"I don't care who he was, sir, or 
On whom he pinned his faith! 

Constructed by whatever law. 

So poor a job I never saw, 
As I'm a living Wraith! 









"What a re-markable cigar! 

How much are they a dozen?" 
I growled, "No matter what thy are! 
You're getting as familiar 

As if you were my cousin! 



..^' 



" Now that's a thing I will not stand, 

And so I tell you fiat." 
"Aha," said he, "we're getting grand!" 
(Taking a bottle in his hand) 

"I'll soon arrange for that!" 
58 





a, 



AND OTHER POEMS 

And here he took a careful aim, 
And gayly cried, "Here goes!" 
I tried to dodge it as it came, 
But somehow caught it, all the same, 
Exactly on my nose. 



I 



And I remember nothing more 

That I can clearly fix, 
Till I was sitting on the floor. 
Repeating, "Two and five are four. 

But five and two are six." 

What really passed I never learned, 

Nor guessed: I only know 
That, when at last my sense returned. 
The lamp, neglected, dimly burned — 

The fire was getting low — 




U i I 



Through driving mists I seemed to see 
A Thing that smirked and smiled: 

And found that he was giving me 

A lesson in Biography, 
As if I were a child. 
59 








i: 



ft' 



CANTO IV.— HYS NOURYTURE 

"Oh, when I was a little Ghost, 

A merry time had we! 
Each seated, on his favorite post, 
We chumped and chawed the buttered toast 

They gave us for our tea." 



#- 



"That story is in print!" I cried. 

"Don't say it's not, because 
It's known as well as Bradshaw's Guide !" 
(The Ghost uneasily replied 

He hardly thought it was.) 




"It's not in Nursery Rhymes? And yet 

I almost think it is — 
'Three little Ghosteses' were set 
'On posteses,' you know, and ate 

Their 'buttered toasteses.' 
60 




<!!iiKy^ 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"I have the book; so, if you doubt it — " 

I turned to search the shelf. 
"Don't stir!" he cried. "We'll do without it: 
I now remember all about it; 

I wrote the thing myself. 

"It came out in a 'Monthly,' or 

At least my agent said it did: 
Some literary swell, who saw 
It, thought it seemed adapted ^r 

The magazine he edited. 

"My father was a Brownie, sir; 

My mother was a Fairy. 
The notion had occurred to her, 
The children would be happier 

If they were taught to vary. 




"The notion soon became a craze; 

And, when it once began, she 
Brought us all out in different ways- 
One was a Pixy, two were Fays, 

Another was a Banshee; 
6i 




•^¥3^' 



J 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"The Fetch and Kelpie went to school, 

And gave a lot of trouble; 
Next came a Poltergeist and Ghoul, 
And then two Trolls (which broke the rule), 

A Goblin, and a Double — 

"(If that's a snuff-box on the shelf," 

He added, with a yawn, 
"I'll take a pinch) — next came an Elf, 
And then a Phantom (that's myself), 

And last, a Leprechaun. 

"One day some Spectres chanced to call, 

Dressed in the usual white: 
I stood and watched them in the hall, 
And couldn't make them out at all. 

They seemed so strange a sight. 

"I wondered what on earth they were, 

That looked all head and sack; 
But mother told me not to stare, 
And then she twitched me by the hair 
And punched me in the back. 
62 





"'I've often sat and howled for hours. 

Drenched to the skin with driving showers ' • 



AND OTHER POEMS 

"Since then I've often wished that I 

Had been a Spectre born. 
But what's the use?" (He heaved a sigh.) 
" They are the ghost-nobihty, 

And look on us with scorn. 

"My phantom-Hfe was soon begun: 

When I was barely six, 
I went out with an older one — 
And just at first I thought it fun, 

And learned a lot of tricks. 



"I've haunted dungeons, castles, towers — 

Wherever I was sent: 
I've often sat and howled for hours, 
Drenched to the skin with driving showers, 

Upon a battlement. 



•*^ 



"It's quite old-fashioned now to groan 

When you begin to speak: 
This is the newest thing in tone — " 
And here (it chilled me to the bone) 

He gave an awful squeak. 
63 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"Perhaps," he added, "to your ear 

That sounds an easy thing? 
Try it yourself, my little dear ! 
It took me something like a year, 

With constant practising. 




• - V J/ 1 




"And when you've learned to squeak, my man, 

And caught the double sob. 
You're pretty much where you began: 
Just try and gibber, if you can! 

That's something like a job! 

"I've tried it, and can only say • 

I'm sure you couldn't do it, e- 
Ven if you practised night and day, 
Unless you have a turn that way, 

And natural ingenuity. 

"Shakespeare I think it is who treats 

Of Ghosts, in days of old. 
Who 'gibbered in the Roman streets,' 
Dressed, if you recollect, in sheets — 

They must have found it cold. 
64 








■.*«.K^?t*- 



AND OTHER POEMS 

"I've often spent ten pounds on stuff, 

In dressing as a Double; 
But, though it answers as a puff, 
It never has effect enough 

To make it worth the trouble. 

"Long bills soon quenched the little thirst 

I had for being funny. 
The setting-up is always worst: 
Such heaps of things you want at first. 

One must be made of money! 

"For instance, take a Haunted Tower, 
With skull, cross-bones, and sheet; 

Blue-lights to bum (say) two an hour, 

Condensing lens of extra power, 
And set of chains complete: 

"What with the things you have to hire — 

The fitting on the robe — 
And testing all the colored fire — 
The outfit of itself would tire 

The patience of a Job! 

s 6s 






;^Sih^ffithtefefe: 






THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"And then they're so fastidious, 

The Haunted-House Committee: 
I've often known them make a fuss 
Because a Ghost was French, or Russ, 
Or even from the City! 



"Some dialects are objected to — 

For one, the Irish brogue is: 
And then, for all you have to do, 
One pound a week they offer you, 
And find yourself in Bogies!" 



£A 



fii 






66 



V.' 

i- 





- ^^^M^^^iS^^'i^^^m^ 



F J CANTO v. — BYCKERMENT 

"Don't they consult the 'Victims,' though?'* 
:rJ;PJ I said. "They should, by rights, 
"■ Give them a chance — because, you know, 
The tastes of people differ so, 
Especially in Sprites." 




The Phantom shook his head and smiled. 

"Consult them? Not a bit! 
'Twould be a job to drive one wild, 
To satisfy one single child — 

There'd be no end to it!" 



"Of course you can't leave children free,' 

Said I, "to pick and choose: 

J**' But, in the case of men like me, ,Av>-^ 

'■ ' ■ "'■ ■•'"0 
ti^- I think 'Mine Host' might fairiy be 

^\ Allowed to state his views." 

67 





«t: 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

He said, "It really wouldn't pay — 

Folk are so full of fancies. 
We visit for a single day, 
And whether then we go, or stay, 

Depends on circumstances. 

"And, though we don't consult 'Mine Host' i 
Before the thing's arranged, i 

Still, if he often quits his post, 
Or is not a well-mannered Ghost, 
Then you can have him changed. 

"But if the host's a man like you — 

I mean a man of sense; 
And if the house is not too new — " 
"Why, what has that," said I, "to do 

With Ghost's convenience?" 

"A new house does not suit, you know — 

It's such a job to trim it: 
But, after twenty years or so, 
The wainscotings begin to go, 

So twenty is the limit." 
68 







— •■1iCi<'-M«^»J^^&.- 



AND OTHER POEMS 




4f 



"To trim" was not a phrase I could 

Remember having heard: 
"Perhaps," I said, "you'll be so good 
As tell me what is understood 

Exactly by that word?" 

"It means the loosening all the doors," 

The Ghost replied, and laughed: 
"It means the drilling holes by scores 
In all the skirting-boards and floors, 
To make a thorough draught. 

"You'll sometimes find that one or two 

Are all you really need 
To let the wind come whistling through- 
But here there'll be a lot to do!" 

I faintly gasped, "Indeed! 

"If I'd been rather later, I'll 

Be bound," I added, trying 
(Most unsuccessfully) to smile, 
"You'd have been busy all this while, 

Trimming and beautifying?" 
69 




L.l!lli- 










THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"Why, no," said he; "perhaps I should 
Have stayed another minute — 

But still no Ghost, that's any good. 

Without an introduction would 
Have ventured to begin it. 

"The proper thing, as you were late, 

Was certainly to go: 
But, with the roads in such a state, 
I got the Knight-Mayor's leave to wait 

For half an hour or so." 

"Who's the Knight-Mayor?" I cried. Instead 

Of answering my question, 
"Well! If you don't know that," he said, 
"Either you never go to bed. 

Or you've a grand digestion! 

"He goes about and sits on folk 

That eat too much at night: 
His duties are to pinch, and poke, 
And squeeze them till they nearly choke." 

(I said "It serves them right!") 
70 



i^ 

.___i 





He goes about and sits on folk 
That eat too much at night" 



AND OTHER POEMS 

"And folk that sup on things like these — 

He muttered, "eggs and bacon — 
Lobster — and duck — and toasted cheese — 
If they don't get an awful squeeze, 
I'm very much mistaken! 

"He is immensely fat, and so 

Well suits the occupation: 
In point of fact, if you must know, 
We used to call him, years ago, 

The Mayor and Corporation! 




"The day he was elected Mayor 

I know that every Sprite meant 
To vote for me, but did not dare — 
He was so frantic with despair 
And furious with excitement. 



"When it was over, for a whim, 

He ran to tell the King; 
And being the reverse of slim, 
A two-mile trot was not for him 
A very easy thing. 
71 










THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"So, to reward him for his run 

(As it was baking hot, 
And he was over twenty stone), 
The King proceeded, half in fun, 

To knight him on the spot." 

"'Twas a great Hberty to take!" 

(I fired up like a rocket.) 
"He did it just for punning's sake: 
'The man,' says Johnson, 'that would make 

A pun, would pick a pocket!'" 

"A man," said he, "is not a King." 

I argued for a while, 
And did my best to prove the thing — 
The Phantom merely listening 

With a contemptuous smile. 

At last, when, breath and patience spent, 

I had recourse to smoking — 
"Your aim," he said, "is excellent: 
But — when you call it argument — 

Of course you're only joking?" 
72 






AND OTHER POEHS 

Stung by his cold and snaky eye, 

I roused myself at length 
To say, "At least I do defy 
^. The veriest sceptic to deny 
That union is strength!" 

"That's true enough," said he, "yet stay — " 

I listened in all meekness — 
" Union is strength, I'm bound to say; 
In fact, the thing's as clear as day; 

But onions — are a weakness." 




73 






CANTO VI. — DYSCOMFYTURE 

As one who strives a hill to climb, 

Who never climbed before: 
Who finds it, in a little time, 
Grow every moment less sublime, 

And votes the thing a bore: 

Yet, having once begun to try, 

Dares not desert his quest, 
But, climbing, ever keeps his eye 
On one small hut against the sky, 

Wherein he hopes to rest: 

Who climbs till nerve and force are spent. 

With many a puff and pant: 
Who still, as rises the ascent, 
In language grows more violent. 
Although in breath more scant: 

74 





''-f9^Ptf,. 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 



Who, climbing, gains at length the place ^ ' .^^ 

That crowns the upward track; ?, 

And, entering with unsteady pace, 

Receives a buffet in the face 
That lands him on his back: 

I 

And feels himself, like one in sleep, '^ 

Glide swiftly down again, 
A helpless weight, from steep to steep, 
Till, with a headlong, giddy sweep. 

He drops upon the plain — 

So I, that had resolved to bring 

Conviction to a ghost. 
And found it quite a different thing 
From any human arguing, 

Yet dared not quit my post: 

But, keeping still the end in view 

To which I hoped to come, 
I strove to prove the matter true 
By putting everything I knew 

Into an axiom: 

75 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Commencing every single phrase 
With "therefore" or "because," 

I blindly reeled, a hundred ways, 

About the syllogistic maze, 
Unconscious where I was. 




w % 



Quoth he, "That's regular clap-trap: 

Don't bluster any more. 
Now do be cool and take a nap! 
Such a ridiculous old chap 

Was never seen before! 

"You're like a man I used to meet, 
Who got one day so furious 

In arguing, the simple heat 

Scorched both his slippers off his feet!" 
I said, " That's very curious!" 



"Well, it is curious, I agree, 

And sounds, perhaps, like fibs: 
But still it's true as true can be — 
As sure as your name's Tibbs," said he. 
I said, "My name's not Tibbs." 
76 






** * In arguing, the simple heat 

Scorched both his slippers off his feet!*" 



'' ^ ■ i^ f^ .y. ^ "•^Mi^i 






AND OTHER POEMS 

"ATo^ Tibbs!" he cried — his tone became 

A shade or two less hearty — 
"Why, no," said I. "My proper name 
IsTibbets— " "Tibbets?" "Aye, the same." 
"Why, then, you're not the party!" 




With that he struck the board a blow 
That shivered half the glasses. 

"Why couldn't you have told me so 

Three-quarters of an hour ago, 
You prince of all the asses? 

"To walk four miles through mud and rain, 
To spend the night in smoking. 

And then to find that it's in vain — 

And I've to do it all again — 
It's really too provoking! 

"Don't talk!" he cried, as I began 

To mutter some excuse. 
"Who can have patience with a man 
That's got no more discretion than 

An idiotic goose? 

77 




: ^VtihnK... 



J 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"To keep me waiting here, instead 

Of telling me at once 
That this was not the house!" he said. 
"There, that '11 do— be off to bed! 

Don't gape like that, you dunce!" 

"It's very fine to throw the blame 

On me in such a fashion! 
Why didn't you inquire my name 
The very minute that you came?" 

I answered in a passion. 

"Of course it worries you a bit 

To come so far on foot — 
But how was / to blame for it?" 
"Well, well!" said he. "I must admit 

That isn't badly put. 



"And certainly you've given me 

The best of wine and victual — 
Excuse my violence," said he, 
"But accidents like this, you see, 
They put one out a little. 
78 




JM^ 



AND OTHER POEMS 



o 



'"Twas my fault, after all, I find — 

Shake hands, old Turnip-top!" 
The name was hardly to my mind, 
But, as no doubt he meant it kind, 
I let the matter drop. 

"Good-night, old Tumip-top, good-night! 

When I am gone, perhaps 
They'll send you some inferior Sprite, 
Who'll keep you in a constant fright 

And spoil your soundest naps. 




'/-. 



% 



"Tell him you'll stand no sort of trick; 

Then, if he leers and chuckles. 
You just be handy with a stick 
(Mind that it's pretty hard and thick) 

And rap him on the knuckles! 

"Then carelessly remark, 'Old coon! 

Perhaps you're not aware 
That, if you don't behave, you'll soon 
Be chuckling to another tune — 

And so you'd best take care!* 
79 





5:^- 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"That's the right way to cure a Sprite 

Of suchlike goings-on — 
But, gracious me! it's getting Hght! 
Good-night, old Turnip-top, good-night!" 

A nod, and he was gone. 



h 




!t^^s*c-»^i^^iJ*^j^ 





CANTO VII. — SAD SOUVENAUNCE 

"What's this?" I pondered. " Have I slept? 

Or can I have been drinking?" 
But soon a gentler feeling crept 
Upon me, and I sat and wept 

An hour or so, like winking. 



t 



"No need for Bones to hurry so!" 

I sobbed. "In fact, I doubt 
If it was worth his while to go — 
And who is Tibbs, I'd like to know. 
To make such work about? 

'If Tibbs is anything like me, 

It's possible," I said, 
"He won't be overpleased to be 
Dropped in upon at half-past three, 
After he's snug in bed. 

6 8i 








,m^^^^- 







THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"And if Bones plagues him, anyhow — 
Squeaking and all the rest of it, 

As he was doing here just now — 

/ prophesy there'll be a row. 

And Tibbs will have the best of it!" 



Then, as my tears could never bring 

The friendly Phantom back, 
It seemed to me the proper thing 
To mix another glass, and sing 
The following Coronach: 

"And art thou gone, beloved Ghost? 

Best of Familiars ! 
Nay, then, farewell, my duckling roast. 
Farewell, farewell, my tea and toast. 

My meerschaum and cigars! 



"4 



" The hues of life are dull and gray. 

The sweets of life insipid, 
When thou, my charmer, art away — 
Old Brick, or rather, let me say. 
Old Parallelepiped!" 
82 




^4. 




" ' And art thott gone, beldbed Ghost ? 
Best of Familiars!' " 



^'v^^^ 






AND OTHER POEMS 

Instead of singing Verse the Third, 

I ceased — abruptly, rather: 
But, after such a splendid word, 
I felt that it would be absurd 

To try it any farther. 

So with a yawn I went my way 

To seek the welcome downy. 
And slept, and dreamed till break of day 
Of Poltergeist and Fetch and Fay 

And Leprechaun and Brownie! 

For years I've not been visited 

By any kind of Sprite; 
Yet still they echo in my head. 
Those parting words, so kindly said, 

"Old Turnip-top, good-night!" 





83 





^; 



•**» 



* ^. 





h-. 



THE THREE VOICES 



THE FIRST VOICE 

He trilled a carol fresh and free: 
He laughed aloud for very glee: 
There came a breeze from off the sea: 



tijy. 



It passed athwart the glooming flat — 
It fanned his forehead as he sat — 
It lightly bore away his hat, 

All to the feet of one who stood 
Like maid enchanted in a wood, 
Frowning as darkly as she could. 



i^^ 



K^^ty^.^.^^ 



With huge umbrella, lank and brown, 
Unerringly she pinned it down, 
Right through the centre of the crown. 
84 






THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Then, with an aspect cold and grim, 
Regardless of its battered rim, 
She took it up and gave it him. 

A while like one in dreams he stood, 
Then faltered forth his gratitude 
In words just short of being rude: 

For it had lost its shape and shine. 
And it had cost him four-and-nine, 
And he was going out to dine. 

"To dine!" she sneered, in acid tone. 
"To bend thy being to a bone 
Clothed in a radiance not its own!" 

The tear-drop trickled to his chin: 
There was a meaning in her grin 
That made him feel on fire within. 

"Term it not 'radiance,'" said he: 
" 'Tis solid nutriment to me. 
Dinner is Dinner: Tea is Tea." 
8S 





W m"^^^^. 







'i 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

And she "Yea so? Yet wherefore cease? 
Let thy scant knowledge find increase. 
Say 'Men are Men, and Geese are Geese.'" 

He moaned: he knew not what to say. 
The thought, "That I could get away!" 
Strove with the thought, "But I must stay. 



"To dine!" she shrieked, in dragon-wrath. 
"To swallow wines all foam and froth! 
To simper at a table-cloth! 

"Say, can thy noble spirit stoop 
To join the gormandizing troop 
Who find a solace in the soup? 

"Canst thou desire or pie or puff? 
Thy well-bred manners were enough, 
Without such gross material stuff." 

"Yet well-bred men," he faintly said, 
"Are not unwilling to be fed: 
Nor are they well without the bread." 
86 






AND OTHER POEMS 

Her visage scorched him ere she spoke: 
"There are," she said, "a kind of folk 
Who have no horror of a joke. 

"Such wretches live: they take their share 
Of common earth and common air: 
We come across them here and there: 

"We grant them — there is no escape — 
A sort of semi-human shape 
Suggestive of the manlike Ape." 

"In all such theories," said he, 
"One fixed exception there must be: 
That is, the Present Company." 

Baffled, she gave a wolfish bark: 

He, aiming blindly in the dark. 

With random shaft had pierced the mark. 

She felt that her defeat was plain, 
Yet madly strove with might and main 
To get the upper hand again. 
87 







M 



^., 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Fixing her eyes upon the beach, 

As though unconscious of his speech, 

She said, " Each gives to more than each.' 



m 



He could not answer yea or nay: 
He faltered, "Gifts may pass away." 
Yet knew not what he meant to say. 



:'<d 



c 



fC 



"If that be so," she straight replied, 
"Each heart with each doth coincide. 
What boots it? For the world is wide." 

"The world is but a Thought," said he: 
"The vast, unfathomable sea 
Is but a Notion — unto me." 

And darkly fell her answer dread 

Upon his unresisting head. 

Like half a hundred-weight of lead. 

"The Good and Great must ever shun 
That reckless and abandoned one 
Who stoops to perpetrate a pun. 



88 



X 





Yet with a tinge of bitterness. 

She said, * The More exceeds the Less ' ' 




AND OTHER POEMS 

" The man that smokes — that reads the Times — 
That goes to Christmas Pantomimes — 
Is capable of any crimes!" 

He felt it was his turn to speak, 

And, with a shamed and crimson cheek, 

Moaned, "This is harder than Bezique!" 



■^i^ 



■ ''a 



But when she asked him, "Wherefore so?" 

He felt his very whiskers glow. 

And frankly owned, "I do not know." 

While, Uke broad waves of golden grain. 
Or sunlit hues on cloistered pane, 
His color came and went again. 



Pitying his obvious distress. 

Yet with a tinge of bitterness. 

She said, "The More exceeds the Less. 

"A truth of such undoubted weight," 
He urged, "and so extreme in date. 
It were superfluous to state." 
89 






"»^^- 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Roused into sudden passion, she 

In tone of cold malignity: 

"To others, yea: but not to thee." 

But when she saw him quail and quake, 
And when he urged, "For pity's sake!" 
Once more in gentle tone she spake. 

"Thought in the mind doth still abide: 
That is by Intellect supplied. 
And within that Idea doth hide: 




"And he that yearns the truth to know 
Still further inwardly may go, 
And find Idea from Notion flow: 

"And thus the chain that sages sought 

Is to a glorious circle wrought. 

For Notion hath its source in Thought." 



So passed they on with even pace. 
Yet gradually one might trace 
A shadow growing on his face. 
90 



C-Cv 






THE SECOND VOICE 

They walked beside the wave-worn beach: 
Her tongue was very apt to teach, 
And now and then he did beseech 



She would abate her dulcet tone, 
Because the talk was all her own, 
And he was dull as any drone. 

She urged, "No cheese is made of chalk": 
And ceaseless flowed her dreary talk. 
Tuned to the footfall of a walk. 

Her voice was very full and rich, 

And, when at length she asked him, "Which?" 

It mounted to its highest pitch. 

He a bewildered answer gave, 
Drowned in the sullen, moaning wave. 
Lost in the echoes of the cave. 
91 






^'iC^- 

THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

He answered her he knew not what: 
Like shaft from bow at random shot, 
He spoke, but she regarded not. 

She waited not for his reply, 
But with a downward, leaden eye 
Went on as if he were not by: 

Sound argument and grave defence, 

Strange questions raised on "Why?" and "Whence?" 

And wildly tangled evidence. 

When he, with racked and whirling brain, 
Feebly implored her to explain. 
She simply said it all again. 

Wrenched with an agony intense, 

He spake, neglecting Sound and Sense, 

And careless of all consequence: 

"Mind — I believe — is Essence — Ent — 
Abstract — that is — an Accident — 
Which we — that is to say — I meant — " 

92 




\ 



:l 




AND OTHER POEMS 

When, with quick breath and cheeks all flushed, 
At length his speech was somewhat hushed, 
She looked at him, and he was crushed. 

It needed not her calm reply: 
She fixed him with a stony eye, ' 
And he could neither fight nor fly, 

While she dissected, word by word. 

His speech, half guessed at and half heard. 

As might a cat a little bird. 

Then, having wholly overthrown 

His views, and stripped them to the bone, 

Proceeded to unfold her own. 

"Shall Man be Man? And shall he miss 
Of other thoughts no thought but this, 
Harmonious dews of sober bliss? 



"What boots it? Shall his fevered eye 
Through towering nothingness descry 
The grisly phantom hurry by? 
93 







THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"And hear dumb shrieks that fill the air; 
See mouths that gape, and eyes that stare 
And redden in the dusky glare? 

"The meadows breathing amber light, 
The darkness toppling from the height, 
The feathery train of granite Night? 

"Shall he, grown gray among his peers, 
Through the thick curtain of his tears 
Catch glimpses of his earlier years, 

"And hear the sounds he knew of yore, 
Old shufflings on the sanded floor. 
Old knuckles tapping at the door? 

"Yet still before him as he flies 
One pallid form shall ever rise. 
And, bodying forth in glassy eyes 

"The vision of a vanished good. 
Low peering through the tangled wood, 
Shall freeze the current of his blood." 
94 



' 1 . f' '. 




s^^ 



-m 






AND OTHER POEMS 



Still from each fact, with skill uncouth 

And savage rapture, Hke a tooth 

She wrenched some slow, reluctant truth. 

Till, Hke a silent water-mill. 

When summer suns have dried the rill, 

She reached a full stop, and was still. 

Dead calm succeeded to the fuss, 

As when the loaded omnibus 

Has reached the railway terminus; 




When, for the tumult of the street, 
Is heard the engine's stifled beat. 
The velvet tread of porters' feet. 



4 



With glance that ever sought the ground, 
She moved her lips without a sound. 
And every now and then she frowned. 

He gazed upon the sleeping sea. 
And joyed in its tranquillity, 
And in that silence dead, but she 
95 





THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

To muse a little space did seem, 
Then, like the echo of a dream, 
Harped back upon her threadbare theme. 



w 



Still an attentive ear he lent 

But could not fathom what she meant: 

She was not deep, nor eloquent. 



He marked the ripple on the sand: 
The even swaying of her hand 
Was all that he could understand. 

He saw in dreams a drawing-room, 
Where thirteen wretches sat in gloom. 
Waiting — he thought he knew for whom; 



He saw them drooping here and there, 
Each feebly huddled on a chair, 
In attitudes of blank despair: 



Oysters were not more mute than they, 
For all their brains were pumped away, 
And they had. nothing more to say — 
96 






AND OTHER POEMS 



mm 

Save one, who groaned, "Three hours are gone!" ^Wm 

Who shrieked, "We'll wait no longer, John! /' 

Tell them to set the dinner on!" 



The vision passed: the ghosts were fled: 
He saw once more that woman dread: 
He heard once more the words she said. 

He left her, and he turned aside: 
He sat and watched the coming tide 
Across the shores so newly dried. 

He wondered at the waters clear. 
The breeze that whispered in his ear, 
The billows heaving far and near, 

And why he had so long preferred 

To hang upon her every word: 

"In truth," he said, "it was absurd." 



97 









:,\\\: 



THE THIRD VOICE 

Not long this transport held its place: 

Within a little moment's space 

Quick tears were raining down his face. 



r 



His heart stood still, aghast with fear; 
A wordless voice, nor far nor near, 
He seemed to hear and not to hear. 



fe ^n 



"Tears kindle not the doubtful spark. 
If so, why not? Of this remark 
The bearings are profoundly dark." 



" Her speech," he said, "hath caused this pain. 
Easier I count it to explain 
The jargon of the howling main. 



lii 



"Or, stretched beside some babbling brook, 
To con, with inexpressive look. 
An unintelligible book." 
98 



^ />^^- 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Low spake the voice within his head, 
In words imagined more than said. 
Soundless as ghost's intended tread: 

"If thou art duller than before, 
Why quittedst thou the voice of lore? 
Why not endure, expecting more?" 

" Rather than that," he groaned, aghast, 
"I'd writhe in depths of cavern vast, 
Some loathly vampire's rich repast." 

" 'Twere hard," it answered, "themes immense 
To coop within the narrow fence 
That rings thy scant intelligence." 

"Not so," he urged, "nor once alone: 
But there was something in her tone 
That chilled me to the very bone. 

"Her style was anything but clear 
And most unpleasantly severe; 
Her epithets were very queer. 
99 





THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"And yet, so grand were her replies, 
I could not choose but deem her wise; 
I did not dare to criticise; 

"Nor did I leave her, till she went 

So deep in tangled argument 

That all my powers of thought were spent." 

A little whisper inly slid, 

"Yet truth is truth: you know you did." 

A little wink beneath the lid. 

And, sickened with excess of dread, 
Prone to the dust he bent his head, 
And lay like one three-quarters dead. 

The whisper left him — like a breeze 
Lost in the depths of leafy trees — 
Left him by no means at his ease. 



Once more he weltered in despair, 
With hands, through denser-matted hair. 
More tightly clinched than then they were. 




L,^^ 




"Once more he weltered in despair, 

"With handst through denser-matted hair ** 




^' 



^■^cy. 




^ 



f 



AND OTHER POEMS 

When, bathed in Dawn of Hving red, 
Majestic frowned the mountain head, 
"Tell me my fault," was all he said. 

When, at high Noon, the blazing sky- 
Scorched in his head each haggard eye, 
Then keenest rose his weary cry. 

And when at Eve the unpitying sun 
Smiled grimly on the solemn fun, 
"Alack," he sighed, "what have I done?'* 

But saddest, darkest was the sight. 
When the cold grasp of laden Night 
Dashed him to earth, and held him tight. 

Tortured, unaided, and alone. 
Thunders were silence to his groan, 
Bagpipes sweet music to its tone: 

"What? Ever thus, in dismal round, 
Shall Pain and Mystery profound 
Pursue me like a sleepless hound, 



A^i 






V) 




^^^ 



A 





,/#';| 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"With crimson-dashed and eager jaws, 
Me, still in ignorance of the cause, 
Unknowing what I broke of laws?" 

The whisper to his ear did seem 
Like echoed flow of silent stream. 
Or shadow of forgotten dream, 

The whisper trembling in the wind: 
"Her fate with thine was intertwined," 
So spake it in his inner mind: 



C 



"Each orbed on each a baleful star: 
^ y i i'i / Each proved the other's blight and bar: 
' 'll'^^'vlr Each unto each were best, most far: 




"Yea, each to each was worse than foe: 
Thou, a scared dullard, gibbering low, 
And she, an avalanche of woe!" 



V. 



1-^ y. 



^^r^W 



.' jr^^f^^ii^ 



THE LANG COORTIN' 

The ladye she stood at her lattice high, 
Wi' her doggie at her feet; 

Through the lattice she can spy 
The passers in the street. 

"There's one that standeth at the door, 

And tirleth at the pin: 
Now speak and say, my popinjay, 

If I sail let him in." 




M: 






N 



Then up and spake the popinjay 
That flew abune her head: 

*'Gae let him in that tirls the pin: 
He Cometh thee to wed." 

Oh, when he cam' the parlor in, 

A woful man was he! 
"And dinna ye ken your lover agen, 

Sae well that loveth thee?" 
103 



%^^ 




W- 



.^t«<&ft^J!?^*r-t^ 





THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"And how wad I ken ye loved me, sir, 
That have been sae lang away? 

And how wad I ken ye loved me, sir? 
Ye never telled me sae." 

Said — "Ladye dear," and the salt, salt tear 
Cam' rinnin' doon his cheek, 
/^" "I have sent thee tokens of my love 

\ This many and many a week. 

"Oh, didna ye get the rings, ladye, 
The rings o' the gowd sae fine? 

I wot that I have sent to thee 
Fourscore, fourscore and nine." 

"They cam' to me," said that fair ladye. 

"Wow, they were flimsie things!" 
Said — "That chain o' gowd my doggie to howd, 

It is made o' thae self -same rings." 

"And didna ye get the locks, the locks. 
The locks o' my ain black hair, 

Whilk I sent by post, whilk I sent by box, 
Whilk I sent by the carrier?" 
104 








^ oa<» 




AND OTHER POEMS 

"They cam' to me," said that fair ladye; 

"And I prithee send nae mair!" 
Said — "That cushion sae red, for my doggie's head. 
It is stuffed wi' thae locks o' hair." 

"And didna ye get the letter, ladye. 

Tied wi' a silken string, 
Whilk I sent to thee frae the far countrie, 

A message of love to bring?" 



i 



"It cam' to me frae the far countrie, 

Wi' its silken string and a'; 
But it wasna prepaid," said that high-born maid, 

"Sae I gar'd them tak' it awa'." 

"Oh, ever alack that ye sent it back. 

It was written sae clerkly and well! 
Now the message it brought, and the boon that it sought, 

I must even say it mysel'." 

Then up and spake the popinjay, 

Sae wisely counselled he. 
"Now say it in the proper way: 

Gae doon upon thy knee!" 

los 






:-/' 1 . < \'\:^ 



I 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

The lover he turned baith red and pale, 

Went doon upon his knee: 
"O ladye, hear the waesome tale 

That must be told to thee! 



^' 



"For five lang years, and five lang years, 

I coorted thee by looks; 
By nods and winks, by smiles and tears. 

As I had read in books. 



"For ten lang years, O weary hours! 
I coorted thee by signs; 
.. ,;, ,„ , By sending game, by sending flowers, 

'."yf-K r^ ,^ f^ I By sending Valentines. 

"For five lang years, and five lang years, 
I have dwelt in the far countrie. 

Till that thy mind should be inclined 
Mair tenderly to me. 



"Now thirty years are gane and past, 
I am come frae a foreign land: 

I am come to tell thee my love at last- 
O ladye, gie me thy hand!" 
1 06 



^r^"^^"^???^^' 




3£^ 




** * Oh, hush thee, gentle popinjay ! 
Oh, hush thee, doggie dear !* ** 






AND OTHER POEMS 

The ladye she turned not pale nor red, 
But she smiled a pitiful smile: 

"Sic' a coortin' as yours, my man," she said, 
"Takes a lang and a weary while!" 

And out and laughed the popinjay, 

A laugh of bitter scorn: 
"A coortin' done in sic' a way. 

It ought not to be borne!" 

Wi' that the doggie barked aloud, 

And up and doon he ran, 
And tugged and strained his chain o' gowd, 

All for to bite the man. 

"Oh, hush thee, gentle popinjay! 

Oh, hush thee, doggie dear! 
There is a word I fain wad say, 

It needeth he should hear!" 



i 



Aye louder screamed that ladye fair 
To drown her doggie's bark: 

Ever the lover shouted mair 
To make that ladye hark: 
107 



J. 






THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Shrill and more shrill the popinjay- 
Upraised his angry squall: 
I trow the doggie's voice that day- 
Was louder than them all! 

The serving-men and serving-maids 

Sat by the kitchen fire: 
They heard sic' a din the parlor within 

As made them much admire. 

Out spake the boy in buttons 

(I ween he wasna thin), 
"Now wha will tae the parlor gae, 
j^ji^ And stay this deadlie din?" 

And they have taen a kerchief, 

Casted their kevils in. 
For wha should tae the parlor gae, 

And stay that deadlie din. 

When on that boy the kevil fell 
To stay the fearsome noise, 
"'Gae in," they cried, "whate'er betide, 
Thou prince. of button-boys!" 

io8 



<P; 





'And followed doon the kitchen stair 
That prince of button-boys I" 






i^ 



AND OTHER POEHS 

Syne, he has taen a supple cane 
To swinge that dog sae fat: 

The doggie yowled, the doggie howled, 
The louder aye for that. 

Syne, he has taen a mutton-bane — 
The doggie ceased his noise, 

And followed doon the kitchen stair 
That prince of button-boys! 

Then sadly spake that ladye fair, 
Wi' a frown upon her brow: 

"Oh, dearer to me is my sma' doggie 
Than a dozen sic' as thou! 




M 



"Nae use, nae use for sighs and tears: 

Nae use at all to fret: 
Sin' ye've bided sae well for thirty years, 

Ye may bide a wee langer yet!" 

Sadly, sadly he crossed the floor 

And tirled at the pin: 
Sadly went he through the door 

Where sadly he cam' in. 
109 





g!jh\|^vl 




\ 



^'t>^r-^>^^ 






THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"Oh, gin I had a popinjay 

To fly abune my head, 
To tell me what I ought to say, 

I had by this been wed. 



V: 



"Oh, gin I find anither ladye," 
He said, wi' sighs and tears, 

"I wot my coortin' sail not be 
Anither thirty years: 




"For gin I find a ladye gay, 

Exactly to my taste, 
I'll pop the question, aye or nay, 

In twenty years at maist." 






jfr*i. 



]^f 



'TVWWi- 






ECHOES 

Lady Clara Vere de Vere 
Was eight years old, she said: 
Every ringlet, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden thread. 

She took her little porringer: 
Of me she shall not win renown: 
For the baseness of its nature shall have strength to drag 
her down. 



"Sisters and brothers, little maid? 
There stands the inspector at thy door: 
Like a dog, he hunts for boys who know not two and two 
are four." 

"Kind words are more than coronets," 
She said, and, wondering, looked at me: 
"It is the dead, unhappy night, and I must hurry home 
to tea." 



m 



s v../^ ^ ^.^^-^ -r:^^ 





A SEA DIRGE 

There are certain things — as a spider, a ghost, 
The income-tax, gout, an umbrella for three — 
That I hate, but the thing that I hate the most 
Is a thing they call the Sea. 






Pour some salt water over the floor — 
Ugly I'm sure you'll allow it to be: 
Suppose it extended a mile or more. 
That's very like the Sea. 



Beat a dog till he howls outright — 

Cruel, but all very well for a spree: 
Suppose that he did so day and night, 
That would be like the Sea. 




I had a vision of nursery -maids ; 

Tens of thousands passed by me — 
All leading children with wooden spades. 
And this was by the Sea. 

112 



v. 




m. 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Who invented those spades of wood? 

Who was it cut them out of the tree? 
None, I think, but an idiot could — 
Or one that loved the Sea. 

It is pleasant and dreamy, no doubt, to float 

With "thoughts as boundless, and souls as free": 
But suppose you are very unwell in the boat, 
How do you like the Sea? 

There is an insect that people avoid 

(Whence is derived the verb "to flee"). 
Where have you been by it most annoyed? 
In lodgings by the Sea. 

If you like your coffee with sand for dregs, 

A decided hint of salt in your tea. 
And a fishy taste in the very eggs — 
By all means choose the Sea. 

And if, with these dainties to drink and eat. 

You prefer not a vestige of grass or tree, 
And a chronic state of wet in your feet, 

Then — I recommend the Sea. 
8 113 




A 



® 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

For / have friends who dwell by the coast — 

Pleasant friends they are to me! 
It is when I am with them I wonder most 
That any one likes the Sea. 



ir--ii 



^f 




They take me a walk: though tired and stiff, 

To climb the heights I madly agree; 

And, after a tumble or so from the cliff. 

They kindly suggest the Sea. 

I try the rocks, and I think it cool 

That they laugh with such an excess of glee. 
As I heavily slip into every pool 

That skirts the cold, cold Sea. 



114 



-^-^5,.-»,e^*^ l"^^- 



>':Sj 



YE CARPETTE KNYGHTE 

' ■ I HAVE a horse — a ryghte goode horse — 

Ne doe I envye those 
Who scoure ye playne yn headye course 

Tyll soddayne on theyre nose 
They lyghte wyth unexpected force — 

Yt ys — a horse of clothes. 




u 



JUL 



I have a saddel — "Say'st thou soe? 

Wyth stymippes, knyghte, to boote?" 
I sayde not that — I answere "Noe" — 

Yt lacketh such, I woote: 
Yt ys a mutton-saddel, loe! 

Parte of ye fleecye brute, 

I have a bytte — a ryghte good bytte — 
As shall bee scene yn tyme. 

Ye jawe of horse yt wyll not fytte, 
Yts use ys more sublyme. 

Fayre syr, how deemest thou of yt? 
Yt ys — thys bytte of rhyme. 
"5 








'I 


^ 










"^'1'»t£r**»ff*l 







> 



HIAWATHA'S PHOTOGRAPHING 

[In an age of imitation, I can claim no 
special merit for this slight attempt at doing 
what is known to be so easy. Any fairly 
practised writer, with the slightest ear for 
rhythm, could compose, for hours together, 
in the easy running metre of "The Song of 
Hiawatha." Having, then, distinctly stated 
that I challenge no attention in the following 
little poem to its merely verbal jingle, I must 
beg the candid reader to confine his criti- 
cism to its treatment of the subject.] 

From his shoulder Hiawatha 
Took the camera of rosewood. 
Made of sHding, folding rosewood; 
Neatly put it all together. 
In its case it lay compactly, 
Folded into nearly nothing; 
But he opened out the hinges, 
ii6 



W.. 



% 




<t 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Pushed and pulled the joints and hinges, 
Till it looked all squares and oblongs, 
Like a compHcated figure 
In the Second Book of Euclid. 

This he perched upon a tripod — 
Crouched beneath its dusky cover — 
Stretched his hand, enforcing silence — 
Said, "Be motionless, I beg you!" 
Mystic, awful was the process. 
All the family in order 
Sat before him for their pictures: 
Each in turn, as he was taken, 
Volunteered his own suggestions. 
His ingenious suggestions. 

First the Governor, the Father: 
He suggested velvet curtains 
Looped about a massy pillar; 
And the corner of a table. 
Of a rosewood dining-table. 
He would hold a scroll of something. 
Hold it firmly in his left hand; 
He would keep his right hand buried 
(Like Napoleon) in his waistcoat; 
He would contemplate the distance 




s^'t^l 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 



.Afto, 





With a look of pensive meaning, 
As of ducks that die in tempests. 

Grand, heroic was the notion. 
Yet the picture failed entirely: 
Failed, because he moved a little, 
Moved, because he couldn't help it. 

Next, his better half took courage; 
She would have her picture taken. 
She came dressed beyond description. 
Dressed in jewels and in satin 
Far too gorgeous for an empress. 
Gracefully she sat down sideways, 
With a simper scarcely human. 
Holding in her hand a bouquet 
Rather larger than a cabbage. 
All the while that she was sitting, 
Still the lady chattered, chattered, 
Like a monkey in the forest. 
"Am I sitting still?" she asked him. 
"Is my face enough in profile? 
Shall I hold the bouquet higher? 
Will it come into the picture?" 
And the picture failed completely. 

Next the Son, the Stunning Cantab: 

ii8 




'■«(*llli#!'aSl»*tr5Sr^' .■?«^""^ \ 




** Next, his better half took courage ; 
She would have her picture taken' 




<^ 



AND OTHER POEMS 

He suggested curves of beauty, 
Curves pervading all his figure, 
Which the eye might follow onward, 
Till they centred in the breastpin, 
Centred in the golden breastpin, 
He had learned it all from Ruskin 
(Author of "The Stones of Venice," 
"Seven Lamps of Architecture," 
"Modern Painters," and some others); 
And perhaps he had not fully 
Understood his author's meaning; 
But, whatever was the reason. 
All was fruitless, as the picture 
Ended in an utter failure. 

Next to him the eldest daughter: 
She suggested very little. 
Only asked if he would take her 
With her look of "passive beauty." 

Her idea of passive beauty 
Was a squinting of the left eye. 
Was a drooping of the right eye. 
Was a smile that went up sideways 
To the corner of the nostrils. 

Hiawatha, when she asked him, 

119 










-CS 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Took no notice of the question, 
Looked as if he hadn't heard it; 
But, when pointedly appealed to, 
Smiled in his peculiar manner. 
Coughed and said it "didn't matter," 
Bit his lip and changed the subject. 

Nor in this was he mistaken, 
As the picture failed completely. 

So in turn the other sisters. 

Last, the youngest son was taken: 
Very rough and thick his hair was. 
Very round and red his face was. 
Very dusty was his jacket. 
Very fidgety his manner. 
And his overbearing sisters 
Called him names he disapproved of: 
Called him Johnny, "Daddy's Darling," 
Called him Jacky, "Scrubby School-boy.' 
And, so awful was the picture, 
In comparison the others 
Seemed, to his bewildered fancy, 
To have partially succeeded. 

Finally my Hiawatha 
Tumbled all the tribe together 





^' 




" Last, the youngest son was taken : 
Very rough and thick his hair was ' 



I 




AND OTHER POEMS 

("Grouped" is not the right expression), 
And, as happy chance would have it, 
Did at last obtain a picture 
Where the faces all succeeded: 
Each came out a perfect likeness. 

Then they joined and all abused it, 
Unrestrainedly abused it, 
As "the worst and ugliest picture 
They could possibly have dreamed of. 
Giving one such strange expressions — 
Sullen, stupid, pert expressions. 
Really any one would take us 
(Any one that did not know us) 
For the most unpleasant people!" 
(Hiawatha seemed to think so, 
Seemed to think it not unlikely). 
All together rang their voices, 
Angry, loud, discordant voices, 
As of dogs that howl in concert, 
As of cats that wail in chorus. 

But my Hiawatha's patience. 
His politeness and his patience, 
Unaccountably had vanished. 
And he left that happy party. 




Pll^ 





IHB 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 



Neither did he leave them slowly, 
With the calm deliberation, 
The intense deliberation 
Of a photographic artist: 
But he left them in a hurry. 
Left them in a mighty hurry, 
Stating that he would not stand it. 
Stating in emphatic language 
What he'd be before he'd stand it. 
Hurriedly he packed his boxes: 
Hurriedly the porter trundled 
On a barrow all his boxes: 
Hurriedly he took his ticket: 
Hurriedly the train received him: 
Thus departed Hiawatha. 



K 




\y\. ^ ^ 



'W 



MELANCHOLETTA 

With saddest music all day long 
She soothed her secret sorrow: 

At night she sighed, "I fear 'twas wrong 
Such cheerful words to borrow. 

Dearest, a sweeter, sadder song 
I'll sing to thee to-morrow." 

I thanked her, but I could not say 
j i That I was glad to hear it: 

I left the house at break of day. 

And did not venture near it 
Till time, I hoped, had worn away 

Her grief, for naught could cheer it! 

My dismal sister! Couldst thou know 
The wretched home thou keepest! 

Thy brother, drowned in daily woe. 
Is thankful when thou sleepest; 

For if I laugh, however low. 

When thou'rt awake, thou weepest! 
123 



\\ 







THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

I took my sister t'other day 
(Excuse the slang expression) 

To Sadler's Wells to see the play, 
In hopes the new impression 

Might in her thoughts, from grave to gay, 
Effect some shght digression. 



St 



I 



I asked three gay young dogs from town 

To join us in our folly, 
Whose mirth, I thought, might serve to drown 

My sister's melancholy: 
The lively Jones, the sportive Brown, 

And Robinson the jolly. 




The maid announced the meal in tones 
That I myself had taught her, 

Meant to allay my sister's moans 
Like oil on troubled water: 

I rushed to Jones, the lively Jones, 
And begged him to escort her. 

Vainly he strove, with ready wit. 

To joke about the weather — 
To ventilate the last "on dit" — 
124 



m 








T^lf'^- 



AND OTHER POEMS 



To quote the price of leather — 
She groaned, "Here I and Sorrow sit: 
Let us lament together!" 

I urged, "You're wasting time, you know: 
Delay will spoil the venison." 

"My heart is wasted with my woe! 
There is no rest — in Venice, on 

The Bridge of Sighs!" she quoted low 
From Byron and from Tennyson. 

I need not tell of soup and fish 
In solemn silence swallowed. 

The sobs that ushered in each dish, 
And its departure followed, 

Nor yet my suicidal wish 
To be the cheese I hollowed. 

Some desperate attempts were made 

To start a conversation; 
"Madam," the sportive Brown essayed, 

"Which kind of recreation. 
Hunting or fishing, have you made 

Your special occupation?" 
"5 












THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Her lips curved downward instantly, 

As if of India-rubber. 
"Hounds in full cry I like," said she: 

(Oh, how I longed to snub her!) 
"Of fish, a whale's the one for me, 

It is so full of blubber!" 

The night's performance was " King John." 
"It's dull," she wept, "and so-so!" 

Awhile I let her tears flow on. 
She said they soothed her woe so! 

At length the curtain rose upon 
"Bombastes Furioso." 

In vain we roared; in vain we tried 

To rouse her into laughter: 
Her pensive glances wandered wide 

From orchestra to rafter — 
"Tier upon tier!" she said, and sighed; 

And silence followed after 



126 




>^^ 




%: 



^ .v^ 



TEMA CON VARIAZIONI 

Why is it that Poetry has never yet been _ 
subjected to that process of Dilution which 
has proved so advantageous to her sister-art 
Music ? The Diluter gives us first a few notes 
of some well-known Air, then a dozen bars 
of his own, then a few more notes of the 
Air, and so on alternately: thus saving the 
listener, if not from all risk of recognizing the 
melody at all, at least from the too-exciting 
transports which it might produce in a more 
concentrated form. The process is termed 
"setting" by Composers, and any one that 
has ever experienced the emotion of being 
unexpectedly set down in a heap of mortar 
will recognize the truthfulness of this happy 
phrase. 

For truly, just as the genuine Epicure lin- 
gers lovingly over a morsel of supreme Venison 
— whose every fibre seems to murmur "Ex- 
celsior!" — yet swallows, ere returning to the 
toothsome dainty, great mouthfuls of oat- 
127 











THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 



meal porridge and winkles: and just as thel>t-. 
perfect Connoisseur in Claret permits himself 
but one delicate sip, and then tosses off a pint 
or more of boarding-school beer : so also — 

I NEVER loved a dear gazelle — 

Nor anything that cost me much: 
High prices profit those who sell, 

But why should I be fond of such? 



To glad me with his soft black eye 
My son comes trotting home from school: 

He's had a fight, hut can't tell why — 
He always was a little fool! 

But, when he came to know me well, 
He kicked me out, her testy sire: 

And when I stained my hair, that Belle 
Might note the change, and thus admire 

And love me, it was sure to dye 
A muddy green or staring blue: 

While one might trace, with half an eye, 
The still-triumphant carrot through. 
128 



y ^y 






A GAME OF FIVES 

Five little girls, of five, four, three, two, one: 
Rolling on the hearth-rug, full of tricks and fun. 

Five rosy girls, in years from ten to six: 
Sitting down to lessons — no more time for tricks. 

Five growing girls, from fifteen to eleven: 

Music, drawing, languages, and food enough for seven! 

Five winsome girls, from twenty to sixteen: 
Each young man that calls I say, "Now tell me which you 
mean!" 

Five dashing girls, the youngest twenty-one: 

But, if nobody proposes, what is there to be done? 

Five showy girls — but thirty is an age 

When girls may be engaging, but they somehow don't 






engage. 



129 






■^^ 



m 



-.-■-*«*« 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Five dressy girls, of thirty-one or more: 
So gracious to the shy young men they snubbed so much 
before! 



Five passe girls — Their age? Well, never mind! 
We jog along together, like the rest of human kind: 
But the quondam "careless bachelor" begins to think he 

knows 
The answer to that ancient problem "how the money 

goes!" 



»3o 





>y>**5^^''fei«^^ 



POETA FIT, NON NASCITUR 

"How shall I be a poet? 

How shall I write in rhyme? 
You told me once 'the very wish 

Partook of the sublime.' 
Then tell me how! Don't put me off 

With your 'another time'!" 

The old man smiled to see him, 

To hear his sudden sally; 
He liked the lad to speak his mind 

Enthusiastically ; 
And thought, "There's no humdrum in him, 

Nor any shilly-shally." 

"And would you be a poet 

Before you've been to school? 
Ah, well! I hardly thought you 

So absolute a fool. 
First learn to be spasmodic — 

A very simple rule. 
131 





THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"For first you write a sentence, 
And then you chop it small; 

Then mix the bits, and sort them out 
Just as they chance to fall: 

The order of the phrases makes 
No difference at all. 

"Then, if you'd be impressive, 

Remember what I say, 
That abstract qualities begin 

With capitals alway: 
The True, the Good, the Beautiful — 

Those are the things that pay! 



^' 




■«S 



"Next, when you are describing 
A shape, or sound, or tint; 

Don't state the matter plainly, 
But put it in a hint; 

And learn to look at all things 
With a sort of mental squint." 

"For instance, if I wished, sir, 

Of mutton-pies to tell, 
Should I say 'dreams of fleecy flocks 
132 






'**How shall I be a poet? 

How shall I write in rhyme?" 



M 



AND OTHER POEMS 

Pent in a wheaten cell'?" 
Why, yes," the old man said: "that phrase 
Would answer very well. 

Then, fourthly, there are epithets 

That suit with any word — 
As well as Harvey's Reading Sauce 

With fish or flesh, or bird — 
Of these, 'wild,' 'lonely,' 'weary,' 'strange,' 

Are much to be preferred." 

"And will it do, oh, will it do 

To take them in a lump — 
As 'the wild man went his weary way 

To a strange and lonely pump'?" 
"Nay, nay! You must not hastily 

To such conclusions jump. 

"Such epithets, like pepper, 

Give zest to what you write; 
And, if you strew them sparely, 

They whet the appetite: 
But if you lay them on too thick, 

You spoil the matter quite! 
133 






^^^ 






I < 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"Last, as to the arrangement: 

Your reader, you should show him, 

Must take what information he 
Can get, and look for no im- 

Mature disclosure of the drift 
And purpose of your poem. 

"Therefore, to test his patience — 
How much he can endure — 

Mention no places, names, or dates, 
And evermore be sure 

Throughout the poem to be found 
Consistently obscure. 

"First fix upon the limit 

To which it shall extend: 
Then fill it up with 'padding' 

(Beg some of any friend): 
Your great sensation stanza 

You place towards the end." 

"And what is a sensation. 

Grandfather, tell me, pray? 
I think I never heard the word 
134 



*►•? 



C? 




<? 



^ v-^ 



AND OTHER POEMS 

So used before to-day: 
Be kind enough to mention one 

' Exempli gratia .'" 

And the old man, looking sadly 

Across the garden-lawn, 
Where here and there a dew-drop 

Yet glittered in the dawn, 
Said, "Go to the Adelphi, 

And see the 'Colleen Bawn.' 

"The word is due to Boucicault — 

The theory is his. 
Where life becomes a spasm, 

And history a whiz: 
If that is not sensation, 

I don't know what it is. 

"Now try your hand, ere fancy 
Have lost its present glow — " 

"And then," his grandson added, 
"We'll publish it, you know: 

Green cloth — gold-lettered at the back- 
In duodecimo!" 

135 








THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Then proudly smiled that old man 

To see the eager lad 
Rush madly for his pen and ink 

And for his blotting-pad — 
But, when he thought of publishing, 

His face grew stern and sad. 



n 



"do 



136 




^ 



'V^'" 



\ 



SIZE AND TEARS 

When on the sandy shore I sit, 
Beside the salt sea-wave, 

And fall into a weeping fit 
Because I dare not shave — 

A little whisper at my ear 

Inquires the reason of my fear. 




I answer, "If that ruffian Jones 
Should recognize me here, 

He'd bellow out my name in tones 
Offensive to the ear: 

He chaffs me so on being stout 

(A thing that always puts me out)." 



Ah me! I see him on the cliff! 

Farewell, farewell to hope. 
If he should look this way, and if 

He's got his telescope! 
To whatsoever place I flee, 
My odious rival follows me! 
137 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

For every night, and everywhere, 

I meet him out at dinner; 
And when I've found some charming fair, 

And vowed to die or win her. 
The wretch (he's thin and I am stout) 
Is sure to come and cut me out! 







The girls (just like them!) all agree 
To praise J. Jones, Esquire: 

I ask them what on earth they see 
About him to admire? 

They cry, "He is so sleek and slim, 

It's quite a treat to look at him!" 



They vanish in tobacco smoke. 

Those visionary maids — 
I feel a sharp and sudden poke 

Between the shoulder-blades — 
"Why, Brown, my boy! You're growing stout!" .. 
(I told you he would find me out!) 



"My growth is not your business, sir!" 

"No more it is, my boy! 
But if it's yours, as I infer, 
138 





AND OTHER POEMS 

Why, Brown, I give you joy! 
A man whose business prospers so 
Is just the sort of man to know! 

"It's hardly safe, though, talking here- 
I'd best get out of reach: 

For such a weight as yours, I fear. 
Must shortly sink the beach!" — 

Insult me thus because I'm stout! 

I vow I'll go and call him out! 




139 





;?5c2!2^r 



"-'~>^-,' -^1/- 




t.:V'' 



ATALANTA IN CAMDEN-TOWN 

Ay, 'twas here, on this spot, 

In that summer of yore, 
Atalanta did not 

Vote my presence a bore, 
Nor reply, to my tenderest talk, "She had heard all that 
nonsense before." 



She'd the brooch I had bought. 

And the necklace and sash on, 
And her heart, as I thought, 
Was alive to my passion; 
And she'd done up her hair in the style that the Empress 
had brought into fashion. 



I had been to the play 

With my pearl of a Peri — 
But, for all I could say. 

She declared she was weary. 
That "the place was so crowded and hot, and she couldn't 
abide that Dundreary." 



140 



:?*f^ 



^ mm^ 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Then I thought, " 'Tis for me 

That she whines and she whimpers!" 
And it soothed me to see 
Those sensational simpers, 
And I said, "This is scrumptious!" — a phrase I had learned 
from the Devonshire shrimpers. 



And I vowed, " 'Twill be said 

I'm a fortunate fellow, 
When the breakfast is spread. 
When the topers are mellow. 
When the foam of the bride-cake is white, and the fierce 
orange blossoms are yellow!" 



Oh, that languishing yawn! 
Oh, those eloquent eyes! 
I was drunk with the dawn 
Of a splendid surmise — 
I was stung by a look, I was slain by a tear, by a tempest 
of sighs. 

And I whispered, '"Tis time! 
Is not love at its deepest? 
141 







f '-' ^.^\ 








y^^ 



Q^^^£&^g*«^i2SS 



7//j 



w 



p 





THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Shall we squander life's prime. 
While thou waitest and weepest? 
Let us settle it, license or banns? — though undoubtedly 
banns are the cheapest." 

"Ah, my Hero," said I, 

"Let me be thy Leander!" 
But I lost her reply — 

Something ending with "gander" — 
For the omnibus rattled so loud that no mortal could 
quite understand her. 




1 



FOUR RIDDLES 

[These consist of two double acrostics and two cha- 
rades. 

No. I. was written at the request of some young 
friends who had gone to a ball at an Oxford com- 
memoration — and also as a specimen of what might 
be done by making the double acrostic a connected 
poem instead of what it has hitherto been, a string of 
disjointed stanzas on every conceivable subject, and 
about as interesting to read straight through as a 
page of a cyclopaedia. The first two stanzas describe 
the two main words, and each subsequent stanza one 
of the cross "lights." 

No. II. was written after seeing Miss Ellen Terry 
perform in the play of "Hamlet." In this case the 
first stanza describes the two main words. 

No. III. was written after seeing Miss Marion Terry 
perform in Mr, Gilbert's play of "Pygmalion and 
Galatea." The three stanzas respectively describe 
" my first," "my second," and "my whole."] 

143 








THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 



j.'"^' -"^^ 



There was an ancient city, stricken down 

With a strange frenzy, and for many a day 
They paced from morn to eve the crowded town, 
And danced the night away. 

I asked the cause; the aged man grew sad: 
They pointed to a building gray and tall, 
And hoarsely answered, "Step inside, my lad, 
And then you'll see it all." 





Yet what are all such gayeties to me 

Whose thoughts are full of indices and surds? 

^' + 7 ^ + 53 

II 



But something whispered, "It will soon be done: 

Bands cannot always play, nor ladies smile: 
Endure with patience the distasteful fun 
For just a little while!" 

144 3^ 



I ':*:^'i^^^ 




AND OTHER POEMS 

A change came o'er my vision — it was night: 

We clove a pathway through a frantic throng: 
The steeds, wild-plunging, filled us with affright: 
The chariots whirled along. 

Within a marble hall a river ran — 

A living tide, half muslin and half cloth: 
And here one mourned a broken wreath or fan. 
Yet swallowed down her wrath; 

And here one offered to a thirsty fair 

(His words half drowned amid those thunders tuneful) 
Some frozen viand (there were many there), 
A toothache in each spoonful. 

There comes a happy pause, for human strength 

Will not endure to dance without cessation; 
And every one must reach the point at length 
Of absolute prostration. 



At such a moment ladies learn to give. 

To partners who would urge them overmuch, 
A flat and yet decided negative — 
Photographers love such. 



I4S 





^-r^ 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

^^ ^ There comes a welcome summons — hope revives, 

"'" And fading eyes grow bright, and pulses quicken: 

^sr; . Incessant pop the corks, and busy knives 

^''"•*.ii^> Dispense the tongue and chicken. 

Flushed with new life, the crowd flows back again: 

And all is tangled talk and mazy motion — 
Much like a waving field of golden grain, 
Or a tempestuous ocean. 

And thus they give the time that nature meant 

For peaceful sleep and meditative snores 
To ceaseless din and mindless merriment, 
And waste of shoes and floors. 





And one (we name him not) that flies the flowers. 

That dreads the dances, and that shuns the salads, 
They doom to pass in solitude the hours. 
Writing acrostic ballads. 

How late it grows! The hour is surely past 

That should have warned us with its double-knock? 
The twilight wanes, and morning comes at last — 
"Oh, uncle, what's o'clock?" 
146 





**They doom to pass in solitude the hours, 
Writing acrostic ballads." 




iiT^""^?^ ■. - ' 






AND OTHER POEMS 

The uncle gravely nods, and wisely winks. 

It may mean much, but how is one to know? 
He opes his mouth — yet out of it, methinks. 
No words of wisdom flow. 

n 

Empress of art, for thee I twine 

This wreath with all too slender skill. 

Forgive my muse each halting line, 
And for the deed accept the will! 

O day of tears! Whence comes this spectre grim,' 
Parting, like death's cold river, souls that love? 

Is not he bound to thee, as thou to him. 

By vows, un whispered here, yet heard above? 

And still it lives, that keen and heavenward flame,] 
Lives in his eye, and trembles in his tone: 

And these wild words of fury but proclaim 
A heart that beats for thee, for thee alone! 

But all is lost: that mighty mind o'erthrown, 
Like sweet bells jangled, piteous sight to see! 
147 




:t^^ 



■^i^:"^ 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"Doubt that the stars are fire," so runs his moan, 
"Doubt Truth herself, but not my love for thee!" 



A sadder vision yet: thine aged sire 

Shaming his hoary locks with treacherous wile! 
And dost thou now doubt Truth to be a liar? 

And wilt thou die, that hast forgot to smile? 




Nay, get thee hence! Leave all thy winsome ways 
And the faint fragrance of thy scattered flowers: 

In holy silence wait the appointed days, 
And weep away the leaden-footed hours. 



m 



The air is bright with hues of light 

And rich with laughter and with singing: 
Young hearts beat high in ecstasy. 

And banners wave, and bells are ringing: 
But silence falls with fading day. 
And there's an end to mirth and play. 
Ah, well-a-day! 

148 







"Rest your old bones, ye Avrinkled crones! 
The kettle sings, the firelight dances " 



AND OTHER POEMS 



Rest your old bones, ye wrinkled crones! 

The kettle sings, the firelight dances. 
Deep be it quaffed, the magic draught 

That fills the soul with golden fancies ! 
For youth and pleasance will not stay, 
And ye are withered, worn, and gray. 
Ah, well-a-day! 

O fair, cold face! O form of grace, 
For human passion madly yearning! 

O weary air of dumb despair, 

From marble won, to marble turning! 

"Leave us not thus!" we fondly pray. 

"We cannot let thee pass away!" 
Ah, well-a-day! 



IV 

My first is singular at best: 
More plural is my second: 
My third is far the pluralest — 
So plural-plural, I protest 
It scarcely can be reckoned! 
149 






THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 








My first is followed by a bird: 

My second by believers 
In magic art: my simple third 
Follows, too often, hopes absurd 

And plausible deceivers. 

My first to get at wisdom tries — 

A failure melancholy! 
My second men revered as wise: 
My third from heights of wisdom flies 

To depths of frantic folly. 

My first is aging day by day: 

My second's age is ended: 
My third enjoys an age, they say, 
That never seems to fade away, 

Through centuries extended. 

My whole? I need a poet's pen 

To paint her myriad phases: 
The monarch, and the slave, of men — 
A mountain-summit, and a den 
Of dark and deadly mazes — 
ISO 




& 




AND OTHER POEMS 

A flashing light — a fleeting shade — 

Beginning, end, and middle 
Of all that human art hath made 
Or wit devised! Go, seek her aid, 
If you would read my riddle! 









,*' i 



A VALENTINE 

^' \-^a. i^' [Sent to a friend who had complained that 
I was glad enough to see him when he came, 
but didn't seem to miss him if he stayed 
^ away.] 

■^ 

And cannot pleasures, while they last 

Be actual unless, when past. 

They leave us shuddering and aghast, 

With anguish smarting? 
And cannot friends be firm and fast, 

And yet bear parting? 




And must I then, at friendship's call, 
Calmly resign the little all 
(Trifling, I grant, it is and small) 

I have of gladness. 
And lend my being to the thrall 

Of gloom and sadness? 

IS2 



V^t 



M 



^ 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 



And think you that I should be dumb, 
And full dolorum omnium. 
Excepting when you choose to come 

And share my dinner? 
At other times be sour and glum 

And daily thinner? 

Must he, then, only live to weep. 

Who'd prove his friendship true and deep? 

By day a lonely shadow creep. 

At night-time languish, 
Oft raising in his broken sleep 

The moan of anguish? 

The lover, if for certain days 
His fair one be denied his gaze. 
Sinks not in grief and wild amaze, 

But, wiser wooer. 
He spends the time in writing lays, 

And posts them to her. 

^t And if the verse flow free and fast, 
Till even the poet is aghast, 
153 







THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

A touching Valentine at last 

The post shall carry, 
When thirteen days are gone and past 
Of February. 

Farewell, dear friend, and when we meet, 
In desert waste or crowded street. 
Perhaps before this week shall fleet, 

Perhaps to-morrow, 
I trust to find your heart the seat 

Of wasting sorrow. 



>v. 






IS4 




FAME'S PENNY-TRUMPET 

[Affectionately dedicated to all "original research- 
ers" who pant for "endowment."] 

Blow, blow your trumpets till they crack, 

Ye little men of little souls! 
And bid them huddle at your back — 

Gold-sucking leeches, shoals on shoals! 





Fill all the air with hungry wails — 
"Reward us, ere we think or write! 

Without your Gold mere Knowledge fails 
To sate the swinish appetite!" 

And, where great Plato paced serene, 
Or Newton paused with wistful eye, 

Rush to the chase with hoofs unclean 
And Babel-clamor of the sty! 



^^ 




:::z;<^^i^' 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Be yours the pay: be theirs the praise: 
We will not rob them of their due, 

Nor vex the ghosts of other days 
By naming them along with you. 




They sought and found undying fame: 
They toiled not for reward nor thanks: 

Their cheeks are hot with honest shame 
For you, the modern mountebanks! 

Who preach of Justice— plead with tears 
That Love and Mercy should abound — 

While marking with complacent ears 
The moaning of some tortured hound: 

Who prate of Wisdom — nay, forbear, 
Lest Wisdom turn on you in wrath. 

Trampling, with heel that will not spare, 
The vermin that beset her path! 

Go, throng each other's drawing-rooms, 

Ye idols of a petty clique: 
Strut your brief hour in borrowed plumes. 

And make your penny-trumpets squeak: 
is6 





^\i/ 




Be yours the pay : be theirs the praise : 
We w^ill not rob them of their doe " 



AND OTHER POEMS 

Deck your dull talk with pilfered shreds 
Of learning from a nobler time, 

And oil each other's little heads 

With mutual Flattery's golden slime: 

And when the topmost height ye gain, 
And stand in Glory's ether clear, 

And grasp the prize of all your pain — 
So many hundred pounds a year — 

Then let Fame's banner be unfurled! 

Sing pseans for a victory won! 
Ye tapers, that would light the world, 

And cast a shadow on the sun — 

Who still shall pour his rays sublime, 
One crystal flood, from east to west. 

When ye have burned your little time 
And feebly flickered into rest! 







POEMS FROM '^ALICE'S 
ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND'' 





DEDICATORY POEH 

All in the golden afternoon 

Full leisurely we glide; 
For both our oars, with little skill, 

By little arms are plied, 
While little hands make vain pretence 

Our wanderings to guide. 



Ah, cruel three! In such an hour 
Beneath such dreamy weather. 

To beg a tale of breath too weak 
To stir the tiniest feather! 

Yet what can one poor voice avail 
Against three tongues together? 

Imperious Prima flashes forth 
Her edict "to begin it"; 

In gentler tone Secunda hopes 
"There will be nonsense in it!" 
i6i 




iJ^ ;■ 




^'v.J THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

While Tertia interrupts the tale 1 

Not more than once a minute 





-C^ 



Anon, to sudden silence won, 

In fancy they pursue 
The dream-child moving through a land 

Of wonders wild and new, 
In friendly chat with bird or beast — 

And half believe it true. 

And ever, as the story drained 

The wells of fancy dry, 
And faintly strove that weary one 

To put the subject by, 
"The rest next time — " "It is next time! 

The happy voices cry. 

Thus grew the tale of Wonderland; 

Thus slowly, one by one, 
Its quaint events were hammered out — 

And now the tale is done, 
And home we steer, a merry crew, 

Beneath the setting sun. 
162 





i 



'L_::^ 



"■u^ 



AND OTHER POEMS 



Alice! a childish story take. 

And with a gentle hand 
Lay it where childhood's dreams are twined 

In memory's mystic band, 
Like pilgrim's withered wreath of flowers 

Plucked in a far-off land. 




THE CROCODILE 

How doth the little crocodile 
Improve his shining tail, 

And pour the waters of the Nile 
On every golden scale! 



How cheerfully he seems to grin! 

How neatly spread his claws, 
And welcomes little fishes in 

With gently smiling jaws! 



I i :ti" t 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 



4 



A CAUCUS-RACE AND A LONG TALE 




^U 



Fury said to a mouse 
That he met in the 
house, " Let us both 
go to law: I will 
prosecute you. 
Come, I'll take no 
denial; We 
must have a trial: 
For really this 
morning I've 
nothing to do." 
Said the mouse 
to the cur, 
"Such a 
trial, dear 
sir, With 
no j ury 
or judge, 
would be 
wasting 
oiu" breath." 
"I'll be 
jud^e, I'll 
be jury," 
said cun- 
ning old 
Fury; "I'll 
try the whole 
cause and 
condemn 
you to 
death." 

164 






1^' St 




* You are old, Father WillJam,' the young man said, 
* And your hair has become very white ' " 




FATHER WILLIAM 

"You are old, Father William," the young man said, 
"And your hair has become very white; 

And yet you incessantly stand on your head — 
Do you think, at your age, it is right?" 

"In my youth," Father William replied to his son, 

"I feared it might injure the brain; 
But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none, 

Why, I do it again and again." 

"You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before, 
And have grown most uncommonly fat; 

Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door — 
Pray, what is the reason of that?" 




"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his gray locks, 

"I kept all my limbs very supple 
By the use of this ointment — one shilling the box — 

Allow me to sell you a couple?" 

i6s 








THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too 
weak 

For anything tougher than suet; 
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak — 

Pray, how did you manage to do it?" 



"In my youth," said his father, "I took to the law. 

And argued each case with my wife; 
And the muscular strength which it gave to my jaw 

Has lasted the rest of my life." 

"You are old," said the youth, "one would hardly suppose 

That your eye was as steady as ever; 
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose — 

What made you so awfully clever?" 

"I have answered three questions, and that is enough," 
Said his father; "don't give yourself airs! 

Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff? 
Be off, or I'll kick you down-stairs!" 



i66 




j4iiiP's^.V>f;'^?y^ 






A LULLABY 

Speak roughly to your little boy, 
And beat him when he sneezes: 

He only does it to annoy, 
Because he knows it teases. 



Chorus 

(In which the cook and the baby joined): 
Wow! wow! wow! 



I speak severely to my boy, 
I beat him when he sneezes; 

For he can thoroughly enjoy 
The pepper when he pleases! 



Chorus 

Wow! wow! wow! 
167 






% 






>JtSf"-~ 



THE WHITING AND THE SNAIL 

"Will you walk a little faster?" said a whiting to a snail. 
"There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on 

my tail. 
See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance! 
They are waiting on the shingle — will you come and join 
the dance? 
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join 

the dance? 
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you 
join the dance? 




"You can really have no notion how delightful it will be 
When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, 

out to sea!" 
But the snail repHed, "Too far, too far!" and gave a look 

askance — 
Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join 

the dance. 

i68 



M 





'— •^•y^^r^M^r 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not i^ 

join the dance. 
Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not 

join the dance. 



"What matters it how far we go?" his scaly friend replied. 
"There is another shore, you know, upon the other side. 
The farther off from England the nearer is to France — 
Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the 
dance. 
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join 

the dance? 
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you 
join the dance?" 




169 



oe-^ 



^fC?r^ 





'TIS THE VOICE OF THE LOBSTER 

'Tis the voice of the Lobster; I heard him declare, 
"You have baked me too brown, I must sugar my hair." 
As a duck with its eyehds, so he with his nose 
Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes. 
When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark. 
And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark; 
But when the tide rises and sharks are around, 
His voice has a timid and tremulous sound. 



I passed by his garden, and marked with one eye 
How the Owl and the Panther were sharing a pie: 
The Panther took pie-crust and gravy and meat. 
While the Owl had the dish as its share of the treat. 
When the pie was all finished, the Owl, as a boon. 
Was kindly permitted to pocket the spoon; 
While the Panther received knife and fork with a growl, 
And concluded the banquet — 



170 








' Beau — ootiful soo — oop ! 
Beau — ootiful soo — oopl" 



^■,:.r, 



^ 




TURTLE SOUP 

Beautiful soup, so rich and green, 
Waiting in a hot tureen! 
Who for such dainties would not stoop? 
Soup of the evening, beautiful soup! 
Soup of the evening, beautiful soup! 

Beau — ootiful soo — oop! 

Beau — ootiful soo — oop! 
Soo — oop of the e — e — evening, 

Beautiful, beautiful soup! 

Beautiful soup! Who cares for fish. 
Game, or any other dish? 
Who would not give all else for two p 
Ennyworth only of beautiful soup? 
Pennyworth only of beautiful soup? 

Beau — ootiful soo — oop! 

Beau — ootiful soo — oop! 
Soo — oop of the e — e — evening, 

Beautiful, beauti — ful soup! 
171 





I N II ^! 



u 





THE WHITE RABBIT'S VERSES 

:,l^ They told me you had been to her, 
' And mentioned me to him; 

She gave me a good character, 
But said I could not swim. 

He sent them word I had not gone. 

(We know it to be true.) 
If she should push the matter on, 
»>- ; . What would become of you? 







''i ■Q 



'(^ 



I gave her one, they gave him two, 
You gave us three or more; 

They all returned from him to you. 
Though they were mine before. 

If I or she should chance to be 

Involved in this affair, 
He trusts to you to set them free, 

Exactly as we were. 
172 





THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

My notion was that you had been 

(Before she had this fit) 
An obstacle that came between 

Him and ourselves and it. 

Don't let him know she liked them best, 

For this must ever be 
A secret, kept from all the rest, 

Between yourself and me. 



^n 





m 



t 



! ■ f 



^^l^^'""' 




CHRISTMAS GREETINGS 

[FROH A FAIRY TO A CHILD] 

Lady, dear, if fairies may 

For a moment lay aside 
Cunning tricks and elfish play, 

'Tis at happy Christmas-tide. 

We have heard the children say — 
Gentle children, whom we love — 

Long ago, on Christmas Day, 
Came a message from above. 

Still, as Christmas-tide comes round, 

They remember it again — 
Echo still the joyful sound, 

"Peace on earth, good-will to men!" 

Yet the heart must childlike be 
Where such heavenly guests abide. 

Unto children, in their glee, 
All the year is Christmas-tide. 
174 





•ys. 




V>' 



'•^i^^' 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Thus, forgetting tricks and play 
For a moment, lady, dear, 

We would wish you, if we may, 
Merry Christmas, glad New Year! 




TWINKLE, TWINKLE 



Twinkle, twinkle, little bat! 
How I wonder what you're at! 
Up above the world you fly, 
Like a tea-tray in the sky. 
Twinkle, twinkle — 



175 





\^ 





POEMS FROM 
•* THROUGH THE LOOKING-GLASS*' 




-<ji>>>iK.:>g,a^r^^*'-T«°fe^"' . 



^y." '■% 



DEDICATORY POEM 

Child of the pure, unclouded brow 
And dreaming eyes of wonder! 

Though time be fleet, and I and thou 
Are half a life asunder, 

Thy loving smile will surely hail 

The love-gift of a fairy-tale. 

I have not seen thy sunny face, 
Nor heard thy silver laughter: 
'No thought of me shall find a place 
In thy young life's hereafter — 

Enough that now thou wilt not fail 

To listen to my fairy-tale. 



A tale begun in other days, 
When summer suns were glowing — 

A simple chime, that served to time 
The rhythm of our rowing — 

Whose echoes live in memory yet, ^^^^^^ 

Though envious years would say "forget." \^ 
179 ^ ; 






\ \ 




— ._ o.- ' '^ 7^ 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Come, hearken then, ere voice of dread, 

With bitter tidings laden, 
Shall summon to unwelcome bed 

A melancholy maiden! 
We are but older children, dear, 
Who fret to find our bedtime near. 

Without, the frost, the blinding snow, (" 
The storm- wind's moody madness; 

Within, the firelight's ruddy glow. 
And childhood's nest of gladness. 

The magic words shall hold thee fast: 

Thou shalt not heed the raving blast. 




And though the shadow of a sigh 
May tremble through the story. 

For "happy summer days" gone by 
And vanished summer glory, 

It shall not touch, with breath of bale, 

The pleasance of our fairy-tale. 



i8o 






JABBERWOCKY 



'TwAS brillig, and the slithy toves 
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: 
^__^ All mimsy were the borogoves, 
^HJL>i And the mome raths outgrabe, 

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son! 

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! 
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun 

The frumious Bandersnatch!" 




He took his vorpal sword in hand: 

Long time the manxome foe he sought- 

So rested he by the Tumtum tree, 
And stood awhile in thought. 

And, as in ufifish thought he stood, 
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame. 

Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, 
And burbled as it came! 
i8i 







THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK Yl 

One, two! One, two! And through and through 
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack! \ \ 

He left it dead, and with its head 
He went galumphing back. 



"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? 

Come to my arms, my beamish boy! 
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!" 

He chortled in his joy. 

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves 
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: 

All mimsy were the borogoves. 
And the mome raths outgrabe. 



-H^ 




""aVv.V^'*'-' <i>-3 




TWEEDLEDUM AND TWEEDLEDEE 



Tweedledum and Tweedledee 
Agreed to have a battle; 

For Tweedledum said Tweedledee 
Had spoiled his nice new rattle. 



Just then flew down a monstrous crow, 

As black as a tar-barrel; 
Which frightened both the heroes so, 

They quite forgot their quarrel. 



HUSH-A-BY LADY 

HusH-A-BY lady, in Alice's lap! 
Till the feast's ready, we've time for a nap. 
When the feast's over, we'll go to the ball — 
Red Queen, and White Queen, and Alice, and all. 



183 




i,. .;-;-.Q"v,<>». 






■' \ 







THE WALRUS AND THE CARPENTER 




The sun was shining on the sea, 
Shining with all his might; 

He did his very best to make 
The billows smooth and bright — 

And this was odd, because it was 
The middle of the night. 



I 




The moon was shining sulkily, 
Because she thought the sun 

Had got no business to be there 
After the day was done — 

"It's very rude of him," she said, 
"To come and spoil the fun!" 

The sea was wet as wet could be, 
The sands were dry as dry. 

You could not see a cloud, because 
No cloud was in the sky; 

No birds were flying overhead — 
There were no birds to fly. 
184 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

The Walrus and the Carpenter 
Were walking close at hand; 

They wept like anything to see 
Such quantities of sand — 

"If this were only cleared away," 
They said, "it would be grand!" 

"If seven maids with seven mops 

Swept it for half a year, 
Do you suppose," the Walrus said, 

"That they could get it clear?" 
"I doubt it," said the Carpenter, 

And shed a bitter tear. 




"O Oysters, come and walk with us!" 

The Walrus did beseech. 
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk, 

Along the briny beach; 
We cannot do with more than four, 

To give a hand to each," 

The eldest Oyster looked at him, 
But never a word he said; 
185 




54 



^-^ 





THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

The eldest Oyster winked his eye, 
And shook his heavy head — 

Meaning to say he did not choose 
To leave the oyster-bed. 



But four young Oysters hurried up, 

All eager for the treat; 
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed. 

Their shoes were clean and neat — 
And this was odd, because, you know, 

They hadn't any feet. 



^' ms 



Four other Oysters followed them, 

And yet another four; 
And thick and fast they came at last, 

And more, and more, and more — 
All hopping through the frothy waves, 

And scrambling to the shore. 

The ^Walrus and the Carpenter 

Walked on a mile or so. 
And then they rested on a rock 

Conveniently low — 
i86 




AND OTHER POEMS 

And all the little Oysters stood 
And waited in a row. 



"The time has come," the Walrus said, 

"To talk of many things: 
Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax — 

Of cabbages — and kings — -; 

And why the sea is boiling hot — (-' 

And whether pigs have wings." f 

"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried, 

"Before we have our chat; 
For some of us are out of breath, 

And all of us are fat!" 
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter. 

They thanked him much for that. 




*A loaf of bread," the Walrus said, 
"Is what we chiefly need; 

Pepper and vinegar besides 
Are very good indeed — 

Now, if you're ready. Oysters dear, 
We can begin to feed." 
187 





^h 



i 



-^ ^^^-^.^'^4^ 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"But not on us!" the Oysters cried, 

Turning a little blue. 
"After such kindness, that would be 

A dismal thing to do!" 
"The night is fine," the Walrus said. 

"Do you admire the view?" 

"It was so kind of you to come! 

And you are very nice!" 
The Carpenter said nothing but, 

" Cut us another slice. 
I wish you were not quite so deaf — 

I've had to ask you twice!" 



i ^ 



y 



A 



"It seems a shame," the Walrus said, 
" To play them such a trick. 

After we've brought them out so far, 
And made them trot so quick!" 

The Carpenter said nothing but, 
"The butter's spread too thick!" 

"I weep for you," the Walrus said; 
"I deeply sympathize." 




^^iV^; 




AND OTHER POEMS 

With sobs and tears he sorted out 
Those of the largest size, 

Holding his pocket-handkerchief 
Before his streaming eyes. 

" O Oysters," said the Carpenter, 
"You've had a pleasant run! 

Shall we be trotting home again?" 
But answer came there none — 

And this was scarcely odd, because 
They'd eaten every one. 



::^^^ 



■Kml 



wrj;'!^ 




'^^^, 




.V :^ 



189 



%::> 




m 



/'->i5 



fM 



IN WINTER, WHEN THE FIELDS 
ARE WHITE 

In winter, when the fields are white, 
I sing this song for your deHght — 

In spring, when woods are getting green 
I'll try and tell you what I mean. 

In summer, when the days are long. 
Perhaps you'll understand the song; 

In autumn, when the leaves are brown, 
Take pen and ink and write it down. 

I sent a message to the fish; 

I told them, "This is what I wish." 



^&V/ 



The little fishes of the sea. 
They sent an answer back to me. 
190 





** And when I found the door was locked, 

I pulled and pushed and kicked and knocked'* 



^^v< 



rCrw-J ':■",<, 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

The little fishes' answer was, 
"We cannot do it, sir, because — " 

I sent to them again to say, 
"It will be better to obey." 







The fishes answered, with a grin, 
"Why, what a temper you are in!" 

I told them once, I told them twice; 
They would not listen to advice. 

I took a kettle, large and new, 
Fit for the deed I had to do. 

My heart went hop, my heart went thump; 
I filled the kettle at the pump. 

Then some one came to me and said, 
"The little fishes are in bed." 

I said to him, I said it plain, 
"Then you must wake them up again." 
191 







Hi 
t 




7 r" 



'^ \l^ 





THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

I said it very loud and clear; 
I went and shouted in his ear. 



But he was very stiff and proud; 

He said, "You needn't shout so loud!" 

And he was very proud and stiff; 

He said, "I'd go and wake them, if — " 



I took a corkscrew from the shelf; 
I went to wake them up myself. 

And when I found the door was locked, 

I pulled and pushed and kicked and knocked. 

And when I found the door was shut, 
I tried to turn the handle, but — 



193 







w 



^ 



^s*^ 




^«^i^^>"^'^= tw/i<tgy 



/ I'LL TELL THEE EVERYTHING I CAN 



I'll tell thee everything I can; 

There's little to relate, 
I saw an aged, aged man, 

A-sitting on a gate. 
"Who are you, aged man?" I said. 

"And how is it you live?" 
And his answer trickled through my head 

Like water through a sieve. 



He said, "I look for butterflies 

That sleep among the wheat; 
I make them into mutton-pies, 

And sell them in the street. 
I sell them unto men," he said, 

"Who sail on stormy seas; 
And that's the way I get my bread- 

A trifle, if you please." 

But I was thinking of a plan 
To dye one's whiskers green, 
13 193 




II m 







"V 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

And always use so large a fan 
That they could not be seen. 

So, having no reply to give 
To what the old man said, 

I cried, "Come, tell me how you live!" 
And thumped him on the head. 

His accents mild took up the tale; 

He said, "I go my ways, 
And when I find a mountain-rill, 

I set it in a blaze; 
And thence they make a stuff they call 

Rowland's Macassar Oil — 
Yet twopence-halfpenny is all 

They give me for my toil." 

But I was thinking of a way 

To feed one's self on batter. 
And so go on from day to day 

Getting a little fatter. 
I shook him well from side to side, 

Until his face was blue, 
"Come, tell me how you live," I cried, 

"And what it is you do!" 
194 

t 



<^^ 




AND OTHER POEMS 



He said, "I hunt for haddocks' eyes 

Among the heather bright, 
And work them into waistcoat-buttons 

In the silent night. 
And these I do not sell for gold 

Or coin of silvery shine, 
But for a copper halfpenny. 

And that will purchase nine. 



Piiiti 



" I sometimes dig for buttered rolls, 

Or set limed twigs for crabs; 
I sometimes search the grassy knolls 

For wheels of hansom-cabs. 
And that's the way" (he gave a wink) 

"By which I get my wealth — 
And very gladly will I drink 

Your honor's noble health." 

I heard him then, for I had just 

Completed my design 
To keep the Menai bridge from rust 

By boiling it in wine. 
I thanked him much for telling me 

The way he got his wealth, 
195 



■/;wr>>*«!. 



N^ 



.->:^ 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

But chiefly for his wish that he 
Might drink my noble health. 



f'i? 



And now, if e'er by chance I put 

My fingers into glue, 
Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot 
a»^i Into a left-hand shoe, 

Or if I drop upon my toe 

A very heavy weight, 
I weep, for it reminds me so 
Of that old man I used to know — 
Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow. 
Whose hair was whiter than the snow, 
Whose face was very like a crow, 
With eyes, like cinders, all aglow, 
^i}I^J7-(';^ Who seemed distracted with his woe. 
Who rocked his body to and fro, 
And muttered mumblingly and low. 
As if his mouth were full of dough, 
Who snorted like a buffalo — 
That summer evening long ago, 

A-sitting on a gate. 



':4 



V 



Z96 



''\^..-:^ 




VJ 



TO THE LOOKING-GLASS WORLD 

^o the Looking-Glass world it was Alice that said, 
"I've a sceptre in hand, I've a crown on my head. 
Let the Looking-Glass creatures, whatever they be. 
Come and dine with the Red Queen, the White Queen, 
and me!" 

Then fill up the glasses as quick as you can. 
And sprinkle the table with buttons and bran; 
Put cats in the coffee, and mice in the tea — 
And welcome Queen Alice with thirty-times-three! 

"O Looking-Glass creatures," quoth Alice, "draw near! 

'Tis an honor to see me, a favor to hear; 

'Tis a privilege high to have dinner and tea 

Along with the Red Queen, the White Queen, and me!" 



Then fill up the glasses with treacle and ink, 
Or anything else that is pleasant to drink; 
Mix sand with the cider, and wool with the wine — 
And welcome Queen Alice with ninety-times-nine!" 
197 








w 



J^"^" 



THE RIDDLE OF THE FISHES 

"First, the fish must be caught." 

That is easy; a baby, I think, could have caught it. 
"Next, the fish must be bought." 

That is easy; a penny, I think, would have bought it. 



"Now cook me the fish!" 

That is easy, and will not take more than a minute. 
"Let it lie in a dish!" 

That is easy, because it already is in it. 



w 




"Bring it here! Let me sup!" 

It is easy to set such a dish on the table. 
"Take the dish-cover up!" 

Ah, that is so hard that I fear I'm unable! 

For it holds it like glue — 

Holds the lid to the dish, while it lies in the middle; 
Which is easiest to do, 

Un-dish-cover the fish, or dish-cover the riddle? 

198 



%>*^ 



■- ■». '^> 





ei^rJifeac^: 



* First, the fish must be caught ' 
That is easy ; a baby, I think, could have caught it " 



Be> 



LIFE IS BUT A DREAM 

A BOAT, beneath a sunny sky 
Lingering onward dreamily 
In an evening of July — 

Children three that nestle near, 
Eager eye and willing ear, 
Pleased a simple tale to hear — 

Long has paled that sunny sky; 
Echoes fade and memories die; 
Autumn frosts have slain July. 

Still she haunts me, phantomwise, 
Alice moving under skies 
Never seen by waking eyes. 

Children yet, the tale to hear, 
Eager eye and willing ear. 
Lovingly shall nestle near. 
199 





■'^.\*irm^ 






>.c> 





^uSJi^ 



■.^■ 



m\ !'>:,' 



immm 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

In a Wonderland they lie, 
Dreaming as the days go by, 
Dreaming as the summers die; 



M 



Ever drifting down the stream — 
Lingering in the golden gleam — 
Life, what is it but a dream? 











POEMS FROM 
*'SYLVIE AND BRUNO*' 




DEDICATORY POEM 

Is all our life, then, but a dream 
Seen faintly in the golden gleam 
Athwart Time's dark, resistless stream? 




Bowed to the earth with bitter woe, 
I Or laughing at some raree-show, 



We flutter idly to and fro. 



Man's little day in haste we spend. 
And from its merry noontide send 
No glance to meet the silent end. 




203 



m 



)' 



2 






IIi%ili(/, 




THE MANLET 

In stature the Manlet was dwarfish — 

No burly, big Blunderbore he; 
And he wearily gazed on the crawfish 

His Wifelet had dressed for his tea. 
"Now reach me, sweet Atom, my gunlet, 

And hurl the old shoelet for luck; 
Let me hie to the bank of the runlet, 
And shoot thee a Duck!" 

She has reached him his minikin gunlet; 

She has hurled the old shoelet for luck; 
She is busily baking a bunlet. 

To welcome him home with his Duck. 
On he speeds, never wasting a wordlet, 

Though thoughtlets cling, closely as wax, 
To the spot where the beautiful birdlet 
So quietly quacks. 

Where the Lobsterlet lurks, and the Crablet 
So slowly and sleepily crawls; 
304 





**TheY bristle before him and after, 
They flutter above and below" 






THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Where the Dolphin's at home, and the Dablet 

Pays long, ceremonious calls; 
Where the Grublet is sought by the Froglet; 

Where the Frog is pursued by the Duck; 
Where the Ducklet is chased by the Doglet — 
So runs the world's luck! 



"^^if*^ 




He has loaded with bullet and powder; 

His footfall is noiseless as air; 
But the Voices grow louder and louder, 

And bellow and bluster and blare. 
They bristle before him and after, 

They flutter above and below, 
Shrill shriekings of lubberly laughter, 
Weird wailings of woe! 



They echo without him, within him; 

They thrill through his whiskers and beard; 
Like a teetotum seeming to spin him, 
With sneers never hitherto sneered. 
" Avengement," they cry, "on our Foelet! 

Let the Manikin weep for our wrongs! 
Let us drench him, from toplet to toelet, 
With Nursery Songs! 
205 




!f?i«/^v 



v^ 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"He shall muse upon 'Hey! Diddle! Diddle!' 
On the Cow that surmounted the Moon; 

He shall rave of the Cat and the Fiddle, 
And the Dish that eloped with the Spoon; 

And his soul shall be sad for the Spider, 
When Miss Muffet was sipping her whey, 

That so tenderly sat down beside her. 
And scared her away! 



"The music of Midsummer madness 
Shall sting him with many a bite, 

Till, in rapture of rollicking sadness, 
He shall groan with a gloomy delight; 

He shall swathe him, like mists of the morning. 
In platitudes luscious and limp, 

Such as deck, with a deathless adorning. 
The Song of the Shrimp! 



\v: 



"When the Ducklet's dark doom is decided. 
We will trundle him home in a trice; 

And the banquet, so plainly provided. 
Shall rotmd into rose-buds and rice; 
206 







AND OTHER POEMS 

In a blaze of pragmatic invention 

He shall wrestle with Fate, and shall reign; 
But he has not a friend fit to mention, 
So hit him again!" 

He has shot it, the delicate darling! 

And the Voices have ceased from their strife; 
Not a whisper of sneering or snarling, 

As he carries it home to his wife; 
Then, cheerily champing the bunlet 

His spouse was so skilful to bake, 
He hies him once more to the runlet 
To fetch her the Drake! 









KING FISHER'S WOOING 

King Fisher courted Lady Bird — 
Sing Beans, sing Bones, sing Butterflies! 

"Find me my match," he said, 

"With such a noble head — 
With such a beard, as white as curd — 

With such expressive eyes!" 

"Yet pins have heads," said Lady Bird — 
Sing Prunes, sing Prawns, sing Primrose-Hill! 

"And where you stick them in 

They stay, and thus a pin 
Is very much to be preferred 

To one that's never still!" 

" Oysters have beards," said Lady Bird — 
Sing Flies, sing Frogs, sing Fiddle-strings! 

" I love them, for I know 

They never chatter so; 
They would not say one single word — 

Not if you crowned them Kings!" 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"Needles have eyes," said Lady Bird — 
Sing Cats, sing Corks, sing Cowslip-tea! 

"And they are sharp — ^just what 

Your Majesty is not; 
So get you gone — 'tis too absurd 

To come a-courting me/" 



14 



209 





f\ Jljffx'/pK-^ ^ 








'^ 


»^J 



^, 




^^"- ^m:^'\:^'^^^i^:^^ 



■y^ 



LITTLE BIRDS 

Little Birds are dining 
Warily and well, 
Hid in mossy cell; 
Hid, I say, by waiters 
Gorgeous in their gaiters — 
I've a tale to tell. 




Little Birds are feeding 
Justices with jam, 
Rich in frizzled ham; 
Rich, I say, in oysters 
Haunting shady cloisters — 
That is what I am. 

Little Birds are teaching 
Tigresses to smile. 
Innocent of guile; 

Smile, I say, not smirkle — 

Mouth a semicircle, 
That's the proper style. 




"Little Birds are feeding 
Justices with jam" 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Little Birds are sleeping 

All among the pins, 

Where the loser wins; 
Where, I say, he sneezes 
When and how he pleases — 

So the tale begins. 

Little Birds are writing 

Interesting books, 

To be read by cooks; 
Read, I say, not roasted — 
Letter-press, when toasted. 

Loses its good looks. 

Little Birds are playing 

Bagpipes on the shore. 

Where the tourists snore. 
" Thanks!" they cry. " 'Tis thrilling! 
Take, oh, take, this shilHng! 

Let us have no more!" 










! i1 I ^ 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Like, but not so lasting — 
Crocodiles, when fasting, 
Are not all they seem! 

Little Birds are choking 

Baronets with bun, 

Taught to fire a gun; 
Taught, I say, to splinter 
Salmon in the winter — 

Merely for the fun. 

Little Birds are hiding 
Crimes in carpet-bags, 
Blessed by happy stags; 
Blessed, I say, though beaten — 
Since our friends are eaten 
When the memory flags. 

Little Birds are tasting 

Gratitude and gold, 

Pale with sudden cold; 
Pale, I say, and wrinkled — 
When the bells have tinkled 

And the tale is told. 





^A 



THE PIG TALE 

There was a Pig that sat alone 

Beside a ruined pump; 
By day and night he made his moan — 
It would have stirred a heart of stone 
To see him wring his hoofs and groan, 

Because he couM not jump. 

A certain Camel heard him shout — 

A Camel with a hump. 
"Oh, is it grief, or is it gout? 
What is this bellowing about?" 
That Pig replied, with quivering snout, 

"Because I cannot jump!" 

That Camel scanned him, dreamy-eyed. 

"Methinks you are too plump. 
I never knew a Pig so wide — 
213 






X 





.^g^^S^ 





THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

That wobbled so from side to side — 
Who could, however much he tried, 
Do such a thing as jump! 



"Yet mark those trees, two miles away, 

All clustered in a clump; 
If you could trot there twice a day, 
Nor ever pause for rest or play. 
In the far future — who can say? — 

You may be fit to jump." 

That Camel passed and left him there 

Beside the ruined pump. 
Oh, horrid was that Pig's despair! 
His shrieks of anguish filled the air. 
He wrung his hoofs, he rent his hair, 

Because he could not jump. 



-^^ 



^ 



There was a Frog that wandered by — 

A sleek and shining lump; 
Inspected him with fishy eye. 
And said, "O Pig, what makes you cry?' 
And bitter was that Pig's reply, 

"Because I cannot jump!" 
214 





** Oh, horrid was that Pig's despair ! 
His shrieks of anguish filled the air" 



AND OTHER POEMS 

That Frog he grinned a grin of glee, 

And hit his chest a thump, 
"O Pig," he said, "be ruled by me, 
And you shall see what you shall see. 
This minute, for a trifling fee, 

I'll teach you how to jump! 

"You may be faint from many a fall. 
And bruised by many a bump; 

But if you persevere through all. 

And practise first on something small. 

Concluding with a ten-foot wall. 
You'll find that you can jump!" 

That Pig looked up with joyful start: 

"O Frog, you are a trump! 
Your words have healed my inward smart- 
Come, name your fee and do your part. 
Bring comfort to a broken heart, 

By teaching me to jump!" 

"My fee shall be a mutton-chop, 

My goal this ruined pump. 
Observe with what an airy flop 

215 











THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

I plant myself upon the top! 
Now bend your knees and take a hop, 
For that's the way to jump!" 

Up rose that Pig, and rushed, lull whack, 

Against the ruined pump. 
Rolled over like an empty sack, 
And settled down upon his back. 
While all his bones at once went " Crack!" 

It was a fatal jump. 

That Camel passed, as day grew dim 

Around the ruined pump. 
"O broken heart! O broken limb! 
It needs," that Camel said to him, 
"Something more fairy -like and slim 

To execute a jump!" 

That Pig lay still as any stone, 

And could not stir a stump. 
Nor ever, if the truth were known, 
Was he again observed to moan. 
Nor ever wring his hoofs and groan, 

Because he could not jump. 
216 




" Up rose that Pig, and rushed, full whack, 
Against the ruined pump" 



AND OTHER POEMS 

That Frog made no remark, for he 

Was dismal as a dump; 
He knew the consequence must be 
That he would never get his fee — 
And still he sits, in miserie, 
Upon that ruined pump! 



«.5 




217 




§ 





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ii 




TING, TING, TING! 

Rise, oh, rise! The dayhght dies, 

The owls are hooting, ting, ting, ting! 

Wake, oh, wake! Beside the lake 
The elves are fluting, ting, ting, ting! 

Welcoming our Fairy King, 
We sing, sing, sing. 

Hear, oh, hear! From far and near 
The music stealing, ting, ting, ting! 

Fairy bells adown the dells 

Are merrily pealing, ting, ting, ting! 

Welcoming our Fairy King, 
We ring, ring, ring. 

See, oh, see! On every tree 

What lamps are shining, ting, ting, ting! 
They are eyes of fiery flies 

To light our dining, ting, ting, ting! 
218 





% 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Welcoming our Fairy King, 
They swing, swing, swing. 

Haste, oh, haste, to take and taste 

The dainties waiting, ting, ting, ting! 
Honey-dew is stored — 





I 



THE BADGERS AND THE HERRINGS 



^ 




There be three Badgers on a mossy stone, 

Beside a dark and covered way. 
Each dreams himself a monarch on his throne, 

And so they stay and stay — 
Though their old Father languishes alone, 

They stay, and stay, and stay. 

There be three Herrings loitering around. 

Longing to share that mossy seat. 
Each Herring tries to sing what she has found 

That makes life seem so sweet. 
Thus, with a grating and uncertain sound. 

They bleat, and bleat, and bleat. 

The Mother-Herring, on the salt sea-wave, 

Sought vainly for her absent ones; 
The Father-Badger, writhing in a cave. 

Shrieked out, "Return, my sons! 
You shall have buns," he shrieked, "if you'll behave! 

Yea, buns, and buns, and buns!" 





"Thus the poor parents talked the time away, 
And wept, and wept, and wept " 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"I fear," said she, "your sons have gone astray. 

My daughters left me while I slept." 
"Yes'm," the Badger said, "it's as you say." 

"They should be better kept." 
Thus the poor parents talked the time away, 

And wept, and wept, and wept. 

Oh, dear beyond our dearest dreams, 
Fairer than all that fairest seems! 
To feast the rosy hours away. 
To revel in a roundelay! 

How blest would be 

A life so free — 
Ipwergis pudding to consume 
And drink the subtle Azzigoom! 

And if, in other days and hours, 

Mid other fluffs and other flowers. 

The choice were given me how to dine — 

"Name what thou wilt: it shall be thine!" 

Oh, then I see 

The life for me — 
Ipwergis pudding to consume 
And drink the subtle Azzigoom! 

221 





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THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

The Badgers did not care to talk to Fish; 

They did not dote on Herrings' songs; 
They never had experienced the dish 

To which that name belongs. 
"And oh, to pinch their tails" (this was their wish), 
"With tongs, yea, tongs, and tongs!" 

"And are not these the Fish," the eldest sighed, 

"Whose Mother dwells beneath the foam?" 
"They are the Fish!" the second one replied, 

"And they have left their home!" 
"Oh, wicked Fish," the youngest Badger cried, 

"To roam, yea, roam, and roam!" 

Gently the Badgers trotted to the shore — 

The sandy shore that fringed the bay. 
Each in his mouth a living Herring bore — 

Those aged ones waxed gay. 
Clear rang their voices through the ocean's roar, 

"Hooray, hooray, hooray!" 





BESSIE'S SONG TO HER DOLL 

Matilda Jane, you never look 
At any toy or picture-book. 
I show you pretty things in vain — 
You must be bHnd, Matilda Jane! 

I ask you riddles, tell you tales. 
But all our conversation fails. 
You never answer me again — 
I fear you're dumb, Matilda Jane! 

Matilda, darling, when I call, 

You never seem to hear at all. 

I shout with all my might and main — 

But you're so deaf, Matilda Jane! 



Matilda Jane, you needn't mind. 
For, though you're deaf and dumb and blind, 
There's some one loves you, it is plain — 
And that is me, Matilda Jane! 
223 





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LOVE 

Say, what is the spell, when her fledglings are cheeping. 

That lures the bird home to her nest? 
Or wakes the tired mother, whose infant is weeping, 

To cuddle and croon it to rest? 
What's the magic that charms the glad babe in her arms, 

Till it cooes with the voice of the dove? 
'Tis a secret, and so let us whisper it low — 
And the name of the secret is Love! 
For I think it is Love, 
For I feel it is Love, 
For I'm sure it is nothing but Love! 

Say, whence is the voice that, when anger is burning. 

Bids the whirl of the tempest to cease? 
That stirs the vexed soul with an aching — a yearning 

For the brotherly hand-grip of peace? 
Whence the music that fills all our being — that thrills 

Around us, beneath, and above? 

224 



^^ 



> 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

'Tis a secret; none knows how it comes, how it goes; 
But the name of the secret is Love! 
For I think it is Love, 
For I feel it is Love, 
For I'm sure it is nothing but Love! 

Say, whose is the skill that paints valley and hill, 

Like a picture so fair to the sight? 
That flecks the green meadow with sunshine and shadow. 

Till the little lambs leap with delight? 
'Tis a secret untold to hearts cruel and cold, 

Though 'tis sung by the angels above, 
In notes that ring clear for the ears that can hear — 
And the name of the secret is Love! 
For I think it is Love, 
For I feel it is Love, 
For I'm sure it is nothing but Love! 



225 



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THE GARDENER'S SONG 

He thought he saw an Albatross 
That fluttered round the lamp; 

He looked again, and found it was 
A Penny-Postage-Stamp. 

"You'd best be getting home," he said; 
"The nights are very damp!" 

He thought he saw an Argument 
That proved he was the Pope; 

He looked again, and found it was 
A Bar-of-Mottled-Soap. 

"A fact so dread," he faintly said, 
"Extinguishes all hope!" 

He thought he saw a Banker's-Clerk 

Descending from the bus; 
He looked again, and found it was 

A Hippopotamus. 
"If this should stay to dine," he said, 

"There won't be much for us!" 
226 





'He thought he saw a Kangaroo 
That worked a coffee-mill " 







\m 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

He thought he saw a Buffalo 

Upon the chimney-piece; 
He looked again, and found it was 

His Sister's-Husband's-Niece. 
"Unless you leave this house," he said, 

"I'll send for the police!" 

He thought he saw a Coach-ana-Four 

That stood beside his bed; 
He looked again, and found it was 

A Bear without a head. 
"Poor thing!" he said — "poor, silly thing! 

It's waiting to be fed!" 

He thought he saw a Garden-Door 

That opened with a key; 
He looked again, and found it was 
A Double-Rule-of-Three. 
"And all its mystery," he said, 
"Is clear as day to me!" 

He thought he saw a Kangaroo 
That worked a coffee-mill; 



'-viijp^"' 













THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

He looked again, and found it was 

A Vegetable-Pill. 
"Were I to swallow this," he said, 

"I should be very ill!" 

He thought he saw a Rattlesnake 
That questioned him in Greek; 

He looked again, and found it was 
The Middle-of-Next-Week. 

'The one thing I regret," he said, 
"Is that it cannot speak!" 




328 



PETER AND PAUL 

" Peter is poor," said noble Paul, 
"And I have always been his friend; 

And though my means to give are small, 
At least I can afford to lend. 

How few, in this cold age of greed. 
Do good, except on selfish grounds! 

But I can feel for Peter's need. 

And I WILL LEND HIM FIFTY POUNDS !" 

How great was Peter's joy to find 

His friend in such a genial vein! 
How cheerfully the bond he signed 

To pay the money back again! 
"We can't," said Paul, "be too precise; 

'Tis best to fix the very day; 
So, by a learned friend's advice, 

I've made it Noon, the Fourth of May." 

"But this is April!" Peter said — 
"The First of April, as I think. 




229 



^^^ 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Five little weeks will soon be fled; 

One scarcely will have time to wink! 
Give me a year to speculate — 

To buy and sell — to drive a trade — " 
Said Paul, "I cannot change the date. 

On May the Fourth it must be paid." 



• ■?? 



"Well, well!" said Peter, with a sigh. 

"Hand me the cash, and I will go. 
I'll form a Joint-Stock Company, 

And turn an honest pound or so." 
"I'm grieved," said Paul, "to seem unkind; 

The money shall, of course, be lent; 
But, for a week or two, I find 

It will not be convenient." 




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So, week by week, poor Peter came 

And turned in heaviness away; 
For still the answer was the same — 

"I cannot manage it to-day." 
And now the April showers were dry — 

The five short weeks were nearly spent- 
Yet still he got the old reply, 

"It is not quite convenient!" 
230 



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'Poor Peter' shuddjred in despair; 
His flowing locks he wildly tore " 



SSs^^p*'-'' 



AND OTHER POEMS 

The Fourth arrived, and punctual Paul 

Came, with his legal friend, at noon. 
"I thought it best," said he, "to call; 

One cannot settle things too soon." 
Poor Peter shuddered in despair; 

His flowing locks he wildly tore; 
And very soon his yellow hair 

Was lying all about the floor. 

The legal friend was standing by, 

With sudden pity half unmanned; 
The tear-drop trembled in his eye. 

The signed agreement in his hand. 
But when at length the legal soul 

Resumed its customary force, 
"The Law," he said, "we can't control: 

Pay, or the Law must take its course!" 

Said Paul, "How bitterly I rue 
That fatal morning when I called! 

Consider, Peter, what you do! 

You won't be richer when you're bald! 

Think you, by rending curls away, 
To make your difficulties less? 
231 



^ 





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THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Forbear this violence, I pray; 
You do but add to my distress!" 





"Not willingly would I inflict," 

Said Peter, "on that noble heart 
One needless pang. Yet why so strict? 

Is this to act a friendly part? 
However legal it may be 

To pay what never has been lent, 
^^^K This style of business seems to me 

Extremely inconvenient! 

t^ipUjs^J "No nobleness of soul have I, 

Like some that in this age are found!" 
ff (Paul blushed in sheer humility, 

And cast his eyes upon the ground.) 
"This debt will simply swallow all, 

And make my life a life of woe!" 
"Nay, nay, my Peter!" answered Paul, 
"You must not rail on Fortune so! 




<:^ 



"You have enough to eat and drink; 

You are respected in the world; 
And at the barber's, as I think. 

You often get your whiskers curled. 
232 




AND OTHER POEMS 

Though nobleness you can't attain- 
To any very great extent — 

The path of honesty is plain, 
However inconvenient ! ' ' 



*"Tis true," said Peter, "I'm alive; 

I keep my station in the world; 
Once in the week I just contrive 

To get my whiskers oiled and curled. 
But my assets are very low; 

My little income's overspent; 
To trench on capital, you know. 

Is always inconvenient." 




" But pay your debts!" cried honest Paul. 

"My gentle Peter, pay your debts! 
What matter if it swallows all 

That you describe as your * assets ' ? 
7( Already you're an hour behind; 

Yet generosity is best. 
It pinches me — but never mind! 

I WILL NOT CHARGE YOU INTEREST!" 
233 





l-^'i 



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THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

"How good! How great!" poor Peter cried. 

"Yet I must sell my Sunday wig, 
The scarf-pin that has been my pride, 

My grand piano, and my pig!" 
Full soon his property took wings; 

And daily, as each treasure went. 
He sighed to find the state of things 

Grow less and less convenient. 



fc>. Weeks grew to months, and months to years; 

Peter was worn to skin and bone; 
And once he even said, with tears, 

"Remember, Paul, that promised loan!" 
Said Paul, "I'll lend you, when I can, 

All the spare money I have got. 
Ah, Peter, you're a happy man! 

Yours is an enviable lot! 



"I'm getting stout, as you may see; 

It is but seldom I am well; 
I cannot feel my ancient glee 

In listening to the dinner-bell. 
But you, you gambol like a boy, 

Your figure is so spare and light; 
234 



I 



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■^^^ 



AND OTHER POEMS 

The dinner-bell's a note of joy 
To such a healthy appetite!" 

Said Peter, "I am well aware 

Mine is a state of happiness; 
And yet how gladly could I spare 

Some of the comforts I possess! 
What you call healthy appetite 

/ feel as Hunger's savage tooth; 
And when no dinner is in sight 

The dinner-bell's a sound of ruth! 

"No scarecrow would accept this coat; 

Such boots as these you seldom see. 
Ah, Paul, a single five-pound note 

Would make another man of me!" 
Said Paul, "It fills me with surprise 

To hear you talk in such a tone. 
I fear you scarcely realize 

The blessings that are all your own! 

"You're safe from being overfed; 

You're sweetly picturesque in rags; 
You never know the aching head 

That comes along with money-bags; 
235 




i 



I 





THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

And you have time to cultivate 
That best of qualities, content — 

For which you'll find your present state 
Remarkably convenient ! ' ' 



Said Peter, "Though I cannot sound 

The depths of such a man as you. 
Yet in your character I've found 

An inconsistency or two. 
You seem to h^ve long years to spare 

When there's a promise to fulfil; 
And yet how punctual you were 

In calling with that little bill!" 



4 




"One can't be too deliberate," 

Said Paul, "in parting with one's pelf. 
With bills, as you correctly state, 

I'm punctuality itself. 
A man may surely claim his dues; 

But, when there's money to be lent, 
A man must be allowed to choose 

Such times as are convenient!" 
236 




u^^V- 



AND OTHER POEMS 

It chanced one day, as Peter sat 

Gnawing a crust — his usual meal — 
Paul bustled in to have a chat, 

And grasped his hand with friendly zeal. 
"I knew," said he, "your frugal ways; 

So, that I might not wound your pride 
By bringing strangers in to gaze, 

I've left my legal friend outside! 

"You well remember, I am sure, 

When first your wealth began to go, 
And people sneered at one so poor, 

/ never used my Peter so! 
And when you'd lost your little all. 

And found yourself a thing despised, 
I need not ask you to recall 

How tenderly I sympathized! 

"Then the advice I've poured on you, 
So full of wisdom and of wit — 

All given gratis, though 'tis true 
I might have fairly charged for it! 

But I refrain from mentioning 
Full many a deed I might relate, 
237 




SV 




\ 



-.M. 







THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

For boasting is a kind of thing 
That I particularly hate. 

"How vast the total sum appears 
Of all the kindnesses I've done, 

From childhood's half-forgotten years 
Down to that Loan of April One! 

That Fifty Pounds! You little guessed 
How deep it drained my slender store; 

But there's a heart within this breast, 

And I WILL LEND YOU FIFTY MORE!" 





"Not so," was Peter's mild reply, 

His cheeks all wet with grateful tears. 
"No man recalls, so well as I, 

Your services in by-gone years; 
And this new offer, I admit, 

Is very, very kindly meant. 
Still, to avail myself of it 

Would not be quite convenient!" 



238 







WHEN HE WAS FAR AWAY 

He stepped so lightly to the land, 

All in his manly pride; 
He kissed her cheek, he pressed her hand, 

Yet still she glanced aside. 
"Too gay he seems," she darkly dreams, 

"Too gallant and too gay ^ 
To think of me — poor simple me — 

"When he is far away!" 




"I bring my Love this goodly pearl 

Across the seas," he said; 
" A gem to deck the dearest girl 

That ever sailor wed!" 
She clasps it tight — her eyes are bright — 

Her throbbing heart would say, 
" He thought of me — he thought of me — 

When he was far away!" 
239 







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THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

The ship has sailed into the west; 

Her ocean-bird is flown; 
A dull, dead pain is in her breast, 

And she is weak and lone. 
Yet there's a smile upon her face, 

A smile that seems to say, 
" He'll think of me — he'll think of me — 

When he is far away! 

"Though waters wide between us glide, 

Our lives are warm and near; 
No distance parts two faithful hearts — 

Two hearts that love so dear. 
And I will trust my sailor-lad. 

Forever and a day. 
To think of me — to think of me — 

When he is far away!" 






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ONE THOUSAND POUNDS 
PER ANNUUM 

"One thousand pounds per annuum 
Is not so bad a figure — come!" 
Cried Tottles. "And I tell you, flat, 
A man may marry well on that! 
To say ' the Husband needs the Wife ' 

Is not the way to represent it. 
The crowning joy of Woman's life 

Is Man!" said Tottles (and he meant it). 

The blissful honeymoon is past; 
The pair have settled down at last; 
Mamma-in-law their home will share, 
And make their happiness her care. 
"Your income is an ample one. 

Go it, my children!" (And they went it.) 
"I rayther think this kind of fun 

Won't last!" said Tottles (and he meant it). 

16 241 



mmm 



















THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

They took a little country-box, 

A box at Covent Garden also; 
They lived a life of double-knocks, 

Acquaintances began to call so; 
Their London house was much the same 

(It took three hundred, clear, to rent it). 
"Life is a very jolly game!" 

Cried happy Tottles (and he meant it). 

"Contented with a frugal lot" 

(He always used that phrase at Gunter's) 
He bought a handy little yacht, 

A dozen serviceable hunters, 
The fishing of a Highland loch, 

A sailing-boat to circumvent it. 
'The sounding of that Gaelic 'och' 

Beats me!'' said Tottles (and he meant it) 

But, oh, the worst of human ills 
(Poor Tottles found) are "little bills"! 
And, with no balance in the bank. 
What wonder that his spirits sank.? 
Still, as the money flowed away, 

He wondered how on earth she spent it 
242 




,ll 






AND OTHER POEMS 



"You cost me twenty pounds a day, 

At least!" cried Tottles (and he meant it). 

She sighed. "Those drawing-rooms, you know! 

I really never thought about it. 
Mamma declared we ought to go — 

We should be nobodies without it. 
That diamond circlet for my brow — 

I quite believed that she had sent it, 
Until the bill came in just now — " 

"Viper!" cried Tottles (and he meant it). 

Poor Mrs. T. could bear no more. 
But fainted flat upon the floor. 
Mamma-in-law, with anguish wild, 
Seeks all in vain to rouse her child. 
"Quick! Take this box of smelhng-salts! 

Don't scold her, James, or you'll repent it. 
She's a dear girl, with all her faults — " 

"She is!" groaned Tottles (and he meant it). 

"I was a donkey," Tottles cried, 
"To choose your daughter for my bride! 
243 






0^? 



m^mmm'mmi 



■p, 




THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

'Twas you that bid us cut a dash! 

'Tis you have brought us to this smash! 

You don't suggest one single thing 

That can in any way prevent it. 
Then what's the use of arguing? 

Shut up!" cried Tottles (and he meant it) 

"And, now the mischief's done, perhaps 
You'll kindly go and pack your traps? 
Since two (your daughter and your son) 
Are company, but three are none. 
A course of saving we'll begin. 

When change is needed, /'// invent it. 
Don't think to put your finger in 

This pie!" cried Tottles (and he meant it). 




^. 



444 



% 





"'And, now the mischief's done, perhaps 
Youll kindly go and pack your traps?'" 









A LESSON IN LATIN 

Our Latin books, in motley row, 

Invite us to the task — 
Gay Horace, stately Cicero; 
Yet there's one verb, when once we know 

No higher skill we ask; 
This ranks all other lore above — 
We've learned "aniare" means "to love"' 



So hour by houri from flower to flowerj 

We sip the sweets of life, 
Till, ah! too soon the clouds arise, 
And knitted brows and angry eyes 

Proclaim the dawn of strife. 
With half a smile and half a sigh, 
^ "Amare! Bitter One!" we cry. ^ 

a45 





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THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK 

Last night we owned, with looks forlorn, 

"Too well the scholar knows 
There is not rose without a thorn"; 
But peace is made! We sing, this morn, 

"No thorn without a rose!" 
Our Latin lesson is complete: 
We've learned that Love is "Bitter-sweet.' 



b^. 











346 









iV 



^:2^^V- 



MY FANCY 

I PAINTED her a gushing thing, 

With years perhaps a score; 
I Httle thought to find they were 

At least a dozen more; 
My fancy gave her eyes of blue, 

A curly, auburn head; 
I came to find the blue a green 

The auburn turned to red. 




She boxed my ears this morning— 

They tingled very much; 
I own that I could wish her 

A somewhat Hghter touch; 
And if you were to ask me how 

Her charms might be improved, 
I would not have them added to. 

But just a few removed! 
247 










viV^S^i^^ Iv t ti;;/rtii^ 



THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK '^^'^l' 

She has the bear's ethereal grace, t»j 

The bland hyena's laugh, 
The footstep of the elephant, 

The neck of the giraffe. 
I love her still, believe me, 

Though my heart its passion hides; 
"She is all my fancy painted her," 

But, oh, how much besides! 



THE END 



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